Commander
by AniRay
Summary: She stared up at the house in front of her. Two stories, Colonial- style architecture. Carefully trimmed shrubs. Bright flowers- pinks, yellows, she even saw a few blues. Martha Stewart would approve. Aunt Lydia's hand landed on her back. "Ofnicholas, this is your new home."
1. Chapter 1

She stared up at the house in front of her. Two stories, Colonial- style architecture, complete with white plank siding and shutters at every window. There was a seating area on the veranda, two wooden chairs and a round table to match. It was nice. The lawn was well cared for. Carefully trimmed shrubs lined the house on each side of the stairs. Bright flowers surrounded the bushes: pinks, yellows, she even saw a few blues.

_Martha Stewart would approve._

Aunt Lydia's hand landed on her back. An order to move forward made to look like an encouraging touch. "Ofnicholas, this is your new home." The door opened and she dropped her eyes to the ground. The urge to look up- examine these people the way they were examining her- was strong. But that would not be the meek thing to do. She kept her head down. "Ah, blessed day Commander Blain, Mrs. Blaine." She assumed they gave some type of nonverbal response because a moment passed before Aunt Lydia turned to her again. "Go along then, Ofnicholas."

_June. My name is June you crazy bitch._

She walked up the steps. The Commander stepped back to let her into the house. His wife stood just to the side of the door. Her hands were fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket. Pretending not to notice June stood across the small entryway. The floors were hardwood. The tips of her shoes touched the edge of a long rug. It had yellow flowers. It matched the yellow walls.

The door closing brought June from her observation of the décor below waist level.

"We're so glad that you're here, Ofnicholas." Mrs. Blaine sounded like she was barely in her teens. _God, did she get stuck with some kind of pedophile? Wasn't this shit already bad enough?_ "I hope we can all get along while you're here."

"Thank you Mrs. Blaine. May the Lord make me worthy."

The Commander cleared his throat, reminding June that he was even there. She wondered if he was always so creepily quiet. Before she could come up with an appropriate greeting for the man he passed them and headed down the hall. Her head turned just slightly to catch a glimpse of him. Tall, medium build, with dark curly hair. He was alright from the back.

"He's…really busy today." Mrs. Blaine's voice had June bringing her eyes back to the floor. "He's always really busy. He does important work to help Gilead prosper." She sounded like a kid explaining why her dad missed a softball game. June almost felt sorry for her.

"Of course."

June lifted her head a bit. An uncomfortable silence settled between the two women. June couldn't leave without permission. She didn't know what room she had been assigned either. But it didn't seem like Mrs. Blaine was going to say anything else anytime soon. She seemed content to stand and…stare?

"Is my room on this floor?"

Mrs. Blaine dropped the fabric of her now wrinkled skirt. June watched the fingers of one hand nervously twist the fingers of the other. "I'm so sorry. You must want to get settled." _A wife who apologizes? That's…weird._ "Um, you can- you can just follow me?" Then she was rushing up the stairs behind June.

Her bag was still by the door, so June went and picked it up before following. The Commander's wife was already waiting at the first landing. It was the first time June saw the woman's face. Only she wasn't a woman. She couldn't have been more than sixteen- if that. Her stomach dropped as she realized just how sick this situation was. And she felt a rush of anger and disgust for her new Commander that rivaled what she had felt for her first one.

Commander Philips had been old and disgusting and a fucking huge misogynist. His hand always found a way to end up on her ass and he ended every 'compliment' with 'for a woman…' But he had never once glanced at their second Martha. She had been about Mrs. Blaine's age.

But this new Commander…

June continued up the stairs. They took the hall to the right. June wondered vaguely what was down the other hall. She supposed she'd have time to explore more later. The walls were a deeper yellow than downstairs. And there was carpeting on the floor. Beige- boring.

Mrs. Blaine stopped at the second door on the left. She had such a bright smile on her face. It made June's palms sweat. "I hope you can be happy with us, Ofnicholas. I…I'm just really excited about being a mother." Then the smile dimmed- disappeared entirely. "I know it's what God wants for me. And the Commander."

_Yeah, right…_

Opening the door, Mrs. Blaine motioned for June to go inside. She forced a smile as she slid past the girl and went inside. Four lilac painted walls, a closet, and a door leading to the bathroom. The bathroom at Commander Philips' house had been downstairs. They didn't trust her not to drown herself or something. The previous Handmaid took too long in the bath which is why they needed her.

There was a bay window with a built in seat. The bed was pushed against the wall closest to her. It had a lilac comforter and white pillows. It was pretty. Full size, so bigger than her last bed. A small nightstand was beside it, with an hourglass-shaped lamp, a small clock, and what looked like a little girl's jewelry box. June glanced at the door. Mrs. Blaine was still there, watching anxiously as June took in the room.

"It's lovely, Mrs. Blaine. Thank you." _I'll have a nice room to hide in after your husband rapes me. I really appreciate it._ The relieved smile that appeared on the girl's face was too much for June. She was too nice to be a Wife. She was too sweet, June could see it. "May I have a few minutes to unpack? I can come down when I'm finished it you'd like." She just needed her to leave. She couldn't keep looking at her nervous, innocent baby-face.

"Of course! I'm sorry. I'll just- you can come find me after. In the sitting room?"

June smiled and nodded. It must have been what the girl needed. Her whole face lit up before she turned and left. Waiting until she heard the stairs creaking, June closed the door. She turned and leaned heavily on the door, her head making a small thump as it hit the wood.

"Welcome home, _Ofnicholas…"_

* * *

She knew the drill. She knew what to say and do, she knew when and where to be. She had learned it all the first time. The Red Center gave you the basics. Aunt Lydia told you exactly what to do and how to do it when it came to being a Handmaid. But they didn't cover the other things- the little things.

Mrs. Philips taught her those. Painfully, with heavy hands and sharp words. Mrs. Philips didn't allow mistakes. She didn't allow disrespect- breathing too loudly, walking too heavily, or staying in a room she occupied. The bruises from her hands during the last Ceremony had only just faded. And there was still a mark on her back from the rod she had used after _Ofclifford_ has dropped one of the cloth napkins that were being folded.

Commander Philips- he taught her things too. He taught her that the Ceremony wasn't the only time his cock could be inside of her. It didn't matter if she would rather not. It didn't matter that the rules were clear on intercourse outside of the Ceremony. And he had no problem holding a pillow over her face to keep her 'calm and sweet'. There was never a 'no' with him. There were bruises and sprains; there were the disgusting sounds of his _exertion. _But there was not, 'no'.

Their older Martha taught her that the Commander might be the head of the household, but the Wife was in charge. She taught her that if there was a conflict between the two, it was the Wife's orders you followed. Because she held all the power within the home. Power to maim or dismiss you with no warning and no trial.

The Red Center taught her to be a _textbook_ Handmaid.

The Philips taught her how to be an _actual _Handmaid.

* * *

She stepped into Mrs. Blaine's sitting room. It was like Big Bird threw up. Everything was yellow. Porcelain canaries on the mantelpiece. Pastel yellow curtains at the windows. Cream furniture with pale yellow flower patterns. It was the most depressingly cheery room June had ever stepped into. And perched carefully of a settee was Mrs. Blaine, the blue-green of her dress out of place with everything else in the room.

June knocked lightly on the doorframe. The way the Commander's wife startled made June wonder if her husband was violent. She had only seen the back of him for less than ten seconds, not enough time to make any type of character judgment. But… He _was _married to a teenager. And abuse didn't have to be purely physical.

"Ofnicholas, come in. Please." The girl gestured for June to sit on the chair across from her. After an appropriate level of hesitation, June did. But she didn't sit back, choosing instead to rest on the edge of the seat. It was presumptuous to act as if she were a wanted guest instead of a necessary tool. "Have you settled in well?"

"Yes, Mrs. Blaine."

A long stretch of silence followed. An awkward silence. The smile that had formed on Mrs. Blaine's face faltered as she realized that June wouldn't be saying anything else.

"Oh. Good- um, praised be." Her fingers started twisting the sides of her skirt again. She did that a lot it seemed. Her brows furrowed for a moment before her expression cleared again. The smile came back- just as warm and open as before. "Do you have any questions for me? Do you want me to show you the rest of the house? Or maybe the garden?"

"That's alright, Mrs. Blaine. I don't want to intrude on your time."

_I don't want to see you more than I have to. _The fact that this girl was so nervous made June uneasy. Mrs. Philips had been sure of herself and her place within the household. And she had no problem reminding everyone what their place was in relationship to hers. But this girl- she didn't seem like she knew anything about what being a Wife meant. Or how to approach a Handmaid being in her home.

Still, June felt bad when the girl's face fell at her rejection. Not enough to change her mind, but enough.

"That's okay. I understand." And maybe she really did understand. She looked as if she knew when someone didn't want to be around her. _The Commander? Her family?_ It didn't matter. June was not going to touch any of that. She was going to keep her distance and make sure she got out of this house in one piece. Mrs. Blaine straightened her posture until it looked painful. "You're dismissed, then, Ofnicholas. Dinner is served in the kitchen at six-thirty."

Then, she stood and left the room.

If June hadn't been paying attention she might have missed the tear that escaped as she turned down the hall.

* * *

_They had been driving for hours. The sun had set before their last gas stop. Now it was raining- so hard that even with the bright lights on and the windshield wipers going on high Luke was hunched over the steering wheel. His eyes were narrowed as he tried to see the dark road in front of them. _

_June was looking behind them. It had been a while since they had seen another car, but she was still worried. She had seen the way the new military had grabbed he co-worker from out of her car, dragged her into a black van as she screamed. She had seen them holding down her boyfriend, grinding his face into the asphalt. Heather had gotten pregnant a few months back. She and Dante had decided they weren't ready to be parents- she'd had an abortion. But now these people were saying that had been illegal- immoral. They said that her fertility was a gift that she would share with the new country._

_That was when June knew- they had to get out. _

_So they had filled up the car and just started driving for the Canadian border. They had emptied her bank account. Well, Luke had. And he pulled out half of what he had in his checking's. It wasn't much but they had both been too scared to get more. They didn't want to raise suspicion. _

_'I can't see anything, babe. I can't keep driving in this- it's too dangerous.'_

_June turned back to the front seat. She placed her hand on his tense arm. 'We can't stop, Luke.' She had wanted to leave earlier- get to Canada like her friend Moira. But Luke…he had been sure things would calm down and she didn't think it could get any worse. 'You saw what they did to Heather and Dante. That can't be us.'_

_He gave a terse nod and leaned closer to the windshield. She knelt on the seat and turned back around. Something flashed in the distance. _Probably just lightning, June. Don't freak out yet._ But then she saw it again. It lasted too long to be lightning. And it was getting closer. The car skidded, knocking June sideways into the door. _

_'Shit. Shit, sorry.'_

_But she barely acknowledged the rough ride. Her eyes were glued to the headlights that were steadily getting closer. 'Luke. Headlights. There are headlights, Luke' She saw him turn his head from the corner of her eyes. Then the car swerved again, spinning out a little before he got it back under control._

_'It's probably just someone else trying to get out. It's probably just…'_

_But it wasn't. A flash of lightning illuminated the night enough for June to see. It was a black van. One like they had thrown Heather into. Her eyes got wide as she realized just how much speed the van was moving at. They were closing in on them and they didn't look like they were going to slow down._

_'Luke…. Luke! You have to go faster. You have to go faster!'_

_'I can't, June! These tires are shit, I can barely see! We'll crash for su-.'_

_The care jerked forward. June fell back, the back of her head hitting the dashboard. The van rammed into the back of them again. Luke lost control on the car. They spun out. June fell into the foot-well. They hit something. The car rolled- ended upright. But the impact made something snap in her arm. She couldn't hold in her scream. She tried to move her arm, but she couldn't- she was stuck._

_Then her door was being yanked open. 'Wait! Wait! Leave her alone! Hey! Leave her alone!' She couldn't see him but June tried to reach for Luke, tried to slide away from whoever was reaching for her. Hands grabbed her and she screamed. Pain shot through her entire body as someone pulled on her arm. 'June! June! Hey, let her go! Asshole, let her go!' But they ignored Luke. _

_Arms wrapped around her- pulling her into the rain. She kicked and screamed- in pain and fear. She tried to claw at the arms around her, but she couldn't. She bucked and jerked- tried to get them to loosen their hold. Nothing worked. Then she felt a prick on the side of her neck. Her head got foggy. Her legs stopped kicking, her body went limp. _

_'June! June!' She could barely hear Luke anymore. Was he still next to her? 'No, please, Stop, please!' She thought she heard a shout- like someone in pain. Then a bang- like a gun in the movies. Then nothing._

_There was nothing but rain and black._

_Then there was only black and silence._


	2. Chapter 2

She had been there for a month, now. Things were…fine. She woke up at five-thirty each morning. Got dressed for the day. It wasn't hard when you already knew what you would wear. Every day- no variations. Then she went downstairs and helped the Martha- her name was Sarah- make breakfast for the Blaine's. Then while Sarah served them, June would start on the dishes. She always waited for Sarah before she ate. It was only fair, and she didn't want to make the woman resent her lack of chores.

June thought what she did was a bit more difficult than cleaning the house, but she would never say so. That was a lesson she had learned at the Phillips' house as well. Her cheek had been red for quite some time. _ Let it go, June._ After breakfast she went for a walk with her partner. Ofjames was…odd. Well, maybe not odd, but there was more to her than the personality Gilead forced on all of the Handmaid's. A spark of...something in her eyes. She always knew just a little more than she was supposed to.

The afternoon, and honestly most of the morning and the night, June spent in her room if Sarah didn't need any help. She had arrived at the end of her most fertile time, so there had been an entire month before she had to actually perform her 'duties'. The Ceremony was that night, but June made every effort not to think about that fact.

But, walking partners and ritual rape aside, things were settled. Or as settled as they ever were in this house. June had realized that the marriage between the Blaine's was in name only. She had seen the Commander exactly twice in the past month. Both times were completely by accident. June had a feeling he was avoiding her. Which she didn't mind at all. It was a relief to have the man of the house _not_ trying to be near her.

But as happy as his absence made June, she noticed that it wasn't just her he avoided. She had woken up in the middle of the night a week after she arrived. She had decided that a snack would help her sleep, so she went downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Blaine had been standing outside of a door, white nightgown making her look virginal and young in the worst way. June had paused, not wanting to be seen. She watched from her place on the steps as Mrs. Blaine raised her hand to knock on the door only to let it fall back to her side before retreating into another room.

It could have been nothing. They could have been having a fight. But given the fact that the next day she helped Sarah clean the rooms, June realized that they always slept in separate rooms. And from what Sarah knew, it had been that way since they got married. _'He goes from his room to his office,' _Sarah had told her_. 'Then he comes home and goes to his study for the rest of the day. Then back to his room.' _

It made June wonder what had made him get married if he didn't seem to want a wife. And Mrs. Blaine… She was so sweet and timid. She wanted to help with everything. And every time she was reminded that it wasn't her place, she looked as if someone had pushed her out of the sandbox at recess. And every day without fail, when the key turned in the front door, her eyes lit up like it was Christmas. And every day without fail, when the Commander walked passed her sitting room with nothing more than a quiet 'Hello' her entire body seemed to collapse into itself.

June truly didn't understand the relationship those two had. And as each day dragged on she found herself almost obsessing about how they ended up this way. It kept her mind busy at least. Sometimes she just imagined the Commander. It had been three days since she got to the house before she saw his face. That was probably a good thing in hindsight- less time for her to obsess over it.

Not that she _obsessed_, obsessed. It was more…curiosity. She had seen good looking Commanders before, and he wasn't Chris Hemsworth or Kit Harrington. But the man had a very nice face. And something about his eyebrows was…_intriguing._ But aside from his looks there was something about the way he walked, the way he spoke. His presence didn't match what she had seen in other Commanders. She couldn't _understand_ him. So yeah, she was curious.

_Maybe he had a mistress. Maybe he got Mrs. Blaine pregnant so he had to marry her. That would be disgusting, honestly. Like, what the fuck, dude?_ June laid sprawled across her bed. On top of the lilac comforter. Her eyes followed the slow rotation of the ceiling fan. _Maybe he's gay._ She doubted it, somehow. She had always been able to tell before. _It wasn't punishable by death before, June._ Okay, so maybe he was gay.

A knock on her door stopped June's speculation on her Commander's sexuality. She glanced at the clock by her bed. Six o'clock- time to start getting ready. June sat up properly. "Come in." She hated how small her voice had gotten since the Red Center. She used to be so assertive. She never made herself small or meek. She could be humble, but it wasn't the same type of humility here. This humility was closer to subservient. She hated it.

The door crack open a bit. "Blessed evening, Ofnicholas." Sarah saw her sitting on the bed- hands folded in her lap as was proper. The door opened wider and the other woman walked in. "it's time to prepare for the Ceremony." She had such a serene smile on her face. June wondered what she was so happy about.

_Probably that it's me and not her._

June simply smiled back- less serene, but still a smile. She stood from the bed and moved to the bathroom. Sarah followed carrying a toiletry kit. June knew what was in it: scented soap, scented lotion, hotel sized shampoo and conditioner, and a razor. Special things for this most special occasion. And Sarah would stand in the corner and watch as June used each one.

Sarah passed her and turned on the water in the tub. June watched her adjust the temperature, testing it on her wrist. She had watched her cousin do that when she tested her baby's bottle. She wondered if Sarah had children before- or at least experience with them. Reaching back to unzip her dress, June put all thoughts of babies and children far from her mind. She didn't want to jinx herself tonight.

She stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the tub. The water was hot but June almost wished it were hotter. She wanted to burn her nerve endings off so she wouldn't have to feel what was about to happen to her. But thinking that way was pointless. So she washed her body, taking care to get everywhere. The Martha at the Philips' house had never hesitated to clean the places she felt that June had missed. And she pinched- _hard._

When it was time, Sarah helped wash her hair. It would have been relaxing if June were at the salon. If she didn't know it was to make her look good for a man she didn't want. But she kept quiet. She shaved her legs and underarms while she had the opportunity. She used to get Brazilians at a place by her house. Somehow that was less intrusive than having Sarah stand in the corner while June shaved down there.

Sarah stepped forward, breaking June out of her thoughts. "It's almost time to go downstairs." With a quick nod, June finished drying herself off. Sarah slipped out of the room- toiletry kit in hand- and came back a moment later with fresh clothes. Identical to what she had been wearing all day, but clean. Only the best for the Ceremony. June pulled on her clothes before stepping into the bedroom. Sarah arranged her hair and put her bonnet on her head. Then all that was left was for June to slip on her shoes and go. "Blessed be the fruit."

June paused at the words.

"May the Lord open."

* * *

Mrs. Blaine's room wasn't yellow. The walls were turquoise, but everything else was cream colored. The bed, the wardrobe, the chaise in the corner- it was all cream. Not quite bridal, not quite virginal, but close. The entire room just highlighted the innocence of its occupant. Who was standing beside her bed, teal dress brushing against the turquoise border of the comforter. The person who would hold June down so her husband could try to impregnate her.

June got into position, lying at the end of the bed, knees bent over the edge. Mrs. Blaine climbed onto the bed behind June, her legs forming a 'V' on either side of June's head. _She needs to be closer_. There was too much space between June's head and Mrs. Blaine. "Should I move up?"

June felt Mrs. Blaine flinch when she spoke. She tilted her head so she could see the girl's face. Mrs. Blaine's cheeks were bright red and her eyes were glued to the embroidered flower beside her hip. But she slid closer to June until they were touching. June went back to the way she had been before.

A knock on the door kept her from getting lost in the images painted on the ceiling.

"Come in."

A door opened and June heard the Commander come in. She looked at him for a moment. His face was blank. Commander Philips had always had a smug smile on his face on Ceremony night. It had made June's skin crawl. This was a change she could get used to. Commander Blaine wore black suit pants and a white button-up shirt. No different from any other Commanders. But if June had been paying more attention she would admit that he seemed to wear his clothing with a confidence that made him almost appealing.

June let her hands rest beside her head, so Mrs. Blaine could hold her wrists. The movement caught the Commander's attention. His eyes went to her hands and for a second June thought she saw regret in his eyes. But whatever it was disappeared so quickly she couldn't be sure. Then he was removing his cufflinks and rolling his sleeves up on his forearms.

Mrs. Blaine finally took hold of June's wrists as the Commander stepped to the end of the bed. The girl's fingers were trembling and June could feel her breathing speed up. It was almost like she was the one about to be violated. Or maybe she was just having a hard time accepting that her husband would touch June- _Ofnicholas-_ instead of her. June shut that thought down. Their marriage was none of her business. Mrs. Blaine's feelings weren't her concern. June just had to get through this.

The Commander folded the hem of her dress up just enough to stand between her thighs. He glanced at her for a moment and June saw the question in his eyes- _Are you ready?_ She almost nodded before she remembered that it didn't matter anyway. Her eyes went to the ceiling. She figured he'd get the hint. And if not, his wife would probably say something soon.

He pressed inside.

Her eyes flew to his.

He was wearing a condom. Her hands fisted for a second before she relaxed again. She wondered if Mrs. Blaine had noticed. Then she stopped thinking about Mrs. Blaine altogether. The Commander was wearing a _condom_. That was…illegal. It went against the entire belief system that Gilead held on to. She waited for him to look at her- acknowledge what was happening in that moment. But his eyes stayed trained on a spot above Mrs. Blaine's head.

It didn't last long. He didn't come. June had been with enough men in her life- before and since Gilead- to know when a man came. And the Commander definitely didn't. But he did a good job acting like it. So June pretended, too. He folded her hem back down to fall properly. She tilted her hips up the slightest bit as if there was something to keep inside. The Commander pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and 'cleaned himself up', but June caught a glimpse of the condom as he wadded up the cloth.

Then he gave a short nod to Mrs. Blaine and left the room.

_What the fuck?_


	3. Thou Shalt Not

**AN:** Chapters with proper titles are oneshots set before Commander begins. It's just an insight into what the characters were doing before the main story began. Actual chapters for the story are called 'Chapter 1' or 'Chapter 2'

* * *

He was there again. In the garden. She had seen him walking the perimeter a few times before. But this time he was closer to the house- she could see him more clearly. He had dark hair, but his eyes were light- blue maybe. He moved through the garden and she couldn't help but think how handsome he was. His uniform fit him well. The all black made him seem noble and mysterious at the same time. And he walked with such purpose.

She wished she had that- purpose.

She thought of her family. She thought of her room back home- the one she shared with her sister. That room had always felt so full of possibilities. She had known what God wanted of her- what her life would be. And she had welcomed it. When they told her she would be married, she had cried tears of joy. But only after she had arrived in this new place did she realize how lost she really was. Her purpose was to take care of her husband. She was supposed to manage the household in the way of the Lord. She was to bear children for her husband- for Gilead.

That was what God wanted for her- from her.

But all the hope and confidence she had felt on her wedding day was slowly fading. Their Marta tended the house. Her husband barely spoke to her. He barely looked at her. And he never touched her. They hadn't even consummated their marriage yet. He always disappeared into his study and then he would sleep in a separate bedroom.

Her parents had never done that. She could remember sneaking into their room at night after a nightmare and crawling in between the two of them. She could remember hearing her mother giggling quietly in their room as her father told silly jokes. It had been such a happy place. It was what she had thought her new home would be.

Now she slept alone. Now she had a silent husband. Now she felt lost and adrift because as much as she wanted to, she could not do what God wanted. So she planted a garden. She threw her heart into tending to God's earth. She had hoped it would fill the void left by her husband. And in many ways it did.

But as soon as _he_ had arrived for the first time, she had felt a change. She still wished to bear children for her husband. She still wanted him to love her and let her love him. But now she watched the gardens for a black uniform instead of for yellow tulips. She felt her heart race when the Guardians changed shift in the afternoons. She looked for dark hair with light eyes more than she listened for the sound of her husband coming home.

And though she was ashamed, she couldn't stop. She shouldn't look at him that way. It was wrong. She was married. But something about Guardian Isaac made her feel excited. Her mother had used the word giddy once, and it felt like the right word for this, too. Something that left her feeling breathless and lightheaded. Something that made something warm swirl low in her stomach. Yes, giddy was the right word.

She blinked- her eyes focusing again. Her heart stopped for a moment. Because somehow he had made it around the garden. He was standing along the fence to her left. A respectable distance, not intrusive at all. But he was looking at her. And this close she could see that his eyes _were_ blue.

Her heart resumed beating, but much faster. The swirling sensation grew more intense. But she liked it. She shouldn't- she didn't even know what it meant. But somehow she knew it would not please God. Still, she couldn't look away. Even as her cheeks burned. Even as her palms grew damp. She couldn't look away. Was this what Ruth felt when she looked at Boaz? Was this why David stole Bathsheba?

_Thou shalt not commit adultery._

She lowered her eyes.

_Anyone who looks lustfully after another has committed adultery in his heart._

She stepped away from the window.

_She would not dishonor God or her husband. _

She turned towards the door.

_She would not sin against God._

She stepped out of the room and headed to her room.

_She would not sin against her_ _husband_.

She didn't look back.

_She would not be like Lot's wife._

The image of dark eyes came to her mind.

_Thou shalt not commit adultery._

Strong hands held a black rifle.

_Thou shalt not commit adultery._

Blue eyes flashed before her.

_Thou shalt not..._


	4. Chapter 3

_Her fingers tapped anxiously against the bathroom counter. _

_Luke was sitting on the floor, back against the tub. But June couldn't sit down. She had only just stopped pacing the small confines of their bathroom because it was making Luke more nervous. She wasn't ready. She knew she wasn't ready. Cravings, morning sickness, getting fat. And she would totally get fat. She wouldn't have a cute little basketball stomach. No, she'd have cankles, bloating from here until Christmas. And the peeing situation- she couldn't handle having something press on her bladder all the time. _

_'I hear pregnancy sex is really great, though.' _

_She said that out loud. Damn it. This is what happens when her mind is all over the place and her nerves are 5-hour Energy levels of shot. She heard Luke snicker behind her and shot him a death glare. But of course that only made him laugh more. She turned back to the timer._

_13:21_

_13:20_

_13:19_

_She couldn't keep looking at that thing. It would drive her crazy. And why the actual fuck did it take fifteen minutes to get results? It shouldn't be that hard. Either you are pregnant or you aren't. This waiting was just to torture people. Irresponsible people who forgot their birth control or ran out of condoms. June wasn't those people. She shouldn't have to live through this. This was like when you get in trouble at school and the teacher says they're going to tell your parents. This is the drive home feeling. When your mind is running through all the ways your mom or dad can ruin your life, kill you, take your Wii. She never even had a Wii. But this was that feeling- the feeling of impending Wii loss. _

_God, would she have to get a Wii for this kid? She didn't even know how she felt about video games for children. How did Luke feel about video games for children? She looked at the man whose baby she may or may not be carrying at this exact moment. He looked like a video game kind of dad. Oh, shit! He totally looked like a dad. Fuck! Now she couldn't un-see it. It was in her head forever now._

_'June. June? Babe, the timer- the timer beeped.'_

_She snapped out of her thoughts. It couldn't have been thirteen minutes already. Had she really zone out for thirteen minutes thinking about Wii? Who does that? _Who the fuck cares, June_? She looked at the timer. 00:00 blinked back at her. She held out her hand and Luke stood up to grab it. Her free hand reached for the box- she had stuck the test in there so she wouldn't look early. She slid the test out._

Not Pregnant

_'Oh, thank God!' She turned and threw her arms around Luke. He held her just as tight. 'That was horrible. We are never- ever doing that again, okay?' Luke pulled back to look at her, calm smile she was so used to seeing back on his face. She loved him so much. She really did. And they weren't having a baby any time soon. 'Let's go have _not pregnant_ sex.' _

_She dragged him out of the bathroom._

* * *

Two months since she arrived and she felt like maybe she could survive this posting. Mrs. Blaine was sweet and didn't make June feel like an intrusive whore. The Commander was mostly absent- which was always nice. It made it easier not to daydream about his face or stress about 'the condom situation'. Sarah was cool, they had a good routine and they got along a lot better than June had expected. Things were… good.

June walked into the day room at the back of the house. No one ever seemed to go there, so she had appropriated it for herself. It was where she went when her room was too purple, or Sarah didn't want company. It would have been a great place to read. _You know, if it weren't illegal. _

She sat at the little table by the window. It looked out onto the garden at the back of the house. There were so many different flowers and plants. Mrs. Blaine had two hummingbird feeders and three birdhouses. June loved to watch the birds and squirrels as they looked for food. And from inside she could avoid the bees and other unsavory insects that came with nature.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, letting the sun warm her through the glass, before someone stepped into the room. June opened her eyes and turned towards the door. Mrs. Blaine stood shyly in the doorway, her hands twisting in her skirt. "I didn't know anyone would be here." She was already turning to leave as she said, "I can come back…"

"No, I was just leaving."

She hadn't been, but June stood up anyway. Mrs. Blaine walked into the room and June waited until she was seated before moving toward the door herself. "Actually, Ofnicholas, could you stay?" June cringed. She didn't want to stay. It was so awkward whenever she was in the same room with this girl. They had nothing in common that June could tell. But she didn't really have much choice. She nodded and returned to her seat.

Mrs. Blaine stared out the window. Her brows were furrowed and she was biting her lip absently. June wondered what she was thinking about. Then realized she probably didn't want to know. The silence that filled the room was as awkward as June had expected. But somehow Mrs. Blaine either didn't notice or didn't care. So June turned back to the window as well. It was less uncomfortable to look at.

They had been sitting in silence for a while. June's thoughts had taken her to Luke and she felt a smile playing at the corner of her lips. She liked those moments- when she could think of him without pain. She was a widow- this place had made her a widow, but she had never been given the time to grieve or accept that change in her life. Gilead had thrown her into so much shit that she had only had time to tread water. She was still treading water, she was just better at it now.

"What was it like? Before?"

June startled. She had forgotten that she wasn't alone. She looked at the other person in the room with her. She hadn't even heard her question. "I beg your pardon?" Mrs. Blaine looked away from the garden and set her gaze on June.

"America. I don't remember it very well. What was it like?"

June took a deep breath. It had been so long since she had thought about the country she was born in. It was so different from the world she lived in now. She thought about her past- the people she knew and loved, what her everyday world looked like. But America as a nation- the country as a whole- she hadn't thought about it.

She sat straighter in her chair. "It was…crazy. There was so much unrest in the last few years. People were worried about the fertility issues and how the government was handling them. There was so much happening in society. Especially civil rights. There were Pride marches and Women's marches to promote equality. Immigrants were finally getting the respect and recognition they deserved as human beings. Society was finally openly addressing the internalized racism against blacks and Hispanics and just people of color. So much good was happening." June remembered going to a forum and having real, open discussion about white privilege and the dangers of certain LGBT stereotypes. She had heard differing, but respectful, opinions on government and healthcare. It had been so refreshing. "And technology was making such cool advances. AI's and virtual reality. The music scene was amazing. And honestly, I wasn't super excited about Hollywood, but even that was doing pretty great."

June looked over and saw Mrs. Blaine. Her eyes were so wide. But it wasn't excitement. It was fear. She looked terrified of every word that was coming out of June's mouth. "Those things distract us from God. And some of them are sins. Why would you want to live in a world like that?" June stared at this girl. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be raised in a home that truly believed all of what Gilead taught. She tried to imagine hearing about LGBT rights when she had been taught that anything other than a man and a woman was a sin.

She couldn't. She honestly couldn't. But that was the world this girl had been raised in. And June realized that she felt sorry for her. There was nothing wrong with having faith. There was nothing wrong with standing by your values. But to not even realize how people had warped some of the values you were holding onto… it was sad.

"They said that loving my husband was a sin. That's why I'm a Handmaid."

Mrs. Blaine's eyes dropped to the floor. "You were married?" June nodded. "I thought it would be different- marriage. I thought we would be in love." June looked at her hands. She wanted to ask so many questions, but it wasn't her place. It wasn't her place and she didn't want to know. She didn't want to be connected to this girl. "Why was it a sin? To love your husband?"

June thought of the first time she met Luke. She thought of the first night they spent together. She remembered the day she met his wife- Annie. "He was married when we met- when we fell in love. It was adultery." She wasn't ashamed. Luke's marriage had been failing before June came into the picture. And she loved her husband. They loved _each other._ "He and his first wife just didn't fit together anymore. It wasn't a healthy relationship and they weren't happy."

"But they made vows. They made a promise before God. You can't just break that. It's wrong."

God, if only it could be that black and white. If only life was as simple as her mind made it seem. "Maybe it was. But the people they were when they made their vows weren't the same people who broke them." June thought about the last normal day with Luke. She thought about how much had changed since then- how much she had changed. Would they still love each other the way they had before? She hated that she didn't know.

Mrs. Blaine looked at her with such deep conflict in her eyes. June could see a million different thoughts and emotions, but she couldn't decipher any of them. Mrs. Blaine nodded slowly, like the weight of her thoughts was too much for her head to hold up. For the first time she didn't look like a child.

June left her to her thoughts.

* * *

She had spoken to the Commander exactly twice. The first time he had bumped into her by accident. He said 'I'm sorry', she said 'It's alright', and then he went on his way. The second had been in the kitchen. It was cloudy outside. He said 'It's gonna rain', she said 'Praise be'. That was it. That was the extent of their conversations in the last two months. So June was more than a little uneasy when Commander Blaine stepped into the kitchen that evening.

Sarah had already left, deciding to enjoy the evening in her room. June didn't blame her. Having time to yourself kept you sane. As long as you weren't alone too long. Then thoughts crept in that were dangerous. Still, June would have preferred Sarah there with her when the Commander showed up.

She had been sitting at the kitchen table, rolling an orange back and forth in her hands. It was something she had always done, since she was a little girl. It helped her think. But when Commander Blaine sat in the chair across from her, June forgot all about what she had been thinking. _So this is it._ She knew how it would start. Small little favors, a little peck on the cheek, then a hand on her ass and his tongue down her throat.

She sat up straighter. If he was going to do this, June didn't want to look scared. She was, but he didn't have to know that. "Did you grow up around here?" She blinked. _What?_ She didn't understand the question. She did, but…she didn't? June knew her face had to look confused because he tried again. "Did you live in Boston? Before?"

Was this a trap? Was he trying to get her to say something bad about Gilead? What was his game here? But she couldn't keep quiet. That was disrespectful- against the rules. Whatever new rules he was making her play by, anyway. So she nodded slowly. "Yes. I grew up in Boston." He nodded. _Good. Conversation over._ For a second she thought she could breathe normally again, instead of this weird hiccup-y thing she was trying not to let him see.

"I'd never been. What was it like?"

Seriously, what the hell was this? June glanced behind her, half expecting the Eyes to be waiting to drag her off somewhere. But no one was there. It was just the two of them. Alone. Talking about Boston. "It was busy. Lots of people all the time. Tourists." What the hell could she say? This entire conversation could get her in serious trouble.

"Did you like the White Sox?"

That killed the fear. June had to force herself not to laugh out loud. Or roll her eyes. "Well since the White Sox were Chicago's team, no. But I did like the _Red_ Sox." The corners of his mouth tipped up slightly. She wouldn't even really call it a smile. And now that the fear was gone, it made her relax a little. Like maybe she could do this. Talk sports. As long as he didn't touch her. "Did you have a favorite team?"

He shrugged, but June saw his shoulders get tense. Was she not allowed to ask questions? His hands came to rest on the table- the thumb of one hand drawing circles on the palm of the other. "Never really paid attention. Sports were more my brother's thing." He seemed to trip over the word 'brother'. It made June wonder what had happened there. "But if I had to pick, I guess I'd go with the Yankees. They did okay, didn't they?"

"Yeah, they did okay."

She caught that almost smile again. Then something changed. She wasn't sure what, exactly. But something was different now. Commander Blaine looked out the window so June did the same. The sky was still light, but the sun would be setting soon. She wished it wouldn't. She wished it could stay daylight for the next week. Then she could just skip the…

"Is this because the Ceremony is tomorrow?"

She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. It didn't matter, did it? Either way the Ceremony was happening. Him asking about sports teams wouldn't change that. And now the mood was shot. It was so odd how she could see him close himself off. It wasn't like she knew him very well- or at all. And he always had a blank expression. But this was truly blank. And it just emphasized how _un_-blank he had been two minutes ago. He looked away from the window and stood up. June stood, too, returning the orange she had been playing with to the fruit bowl.

"You should get some rest," he said.

Then he walked out of the kitchen.

_What the fuck just happened?_

* * *

She didn't rest. Her walking partner came to the kitchen door instead. That was odd. Handmaids weren't supposed to interact with each other too much. It was too dangerous for such sinful minds to converse for too long. They might get ideas. But for some reason Ofjames was standing at the back door.

June opened the door but didn't invite the other woman inside. There were rules. "Blessed be the fruit." The other Handmaid didn't return the greeting. She simply held out her hand. June did the same, curious and confused. A small slip of paper passed from Ofjames to her and June almost dropped it. She could lose a finger for having this. She didn't even know what it was, and it could get her permanently disfigured.

"I hear there are oranges at the market this week. We should get some tomorrow." If it weren't for the piece of paper and the oddly bright eyes, June would think nothing of this whole exchange. There was an excited, almost mad glint in Ofjames' eyes. But her words were calm and as dull as they should be. None of this made _sense_ and June was suddenly afraid that if she read the paper that it _would_.

But she couldn't just stand there like this. So she nodded and said, "Praised be." She smiled and watched as Ofjames turned and walked back down to the street. June slipped the paper into her pocket and closed the door. Then she forced herself to calmly walk to her room. Her heart was pounding and she just knew that Mrs. Blaine or the Commander was going to step out and stop her at any second.

But they didn't. She reached her floor and rushed quietly down the hall to her room. She just barely kept the door from slamming shut behind her as she entered. Fumbling in her pocket, June grasped the paper and pulled it out. Her fingers were trembling and her breathing was ridiculously fast. _Oh my God, June you haven't even opened it yet._ She unfolded the paper and stared blankly at the black ink scrawled across the white.

It took her a moment to actually read the words on the paper. Her shaking index finger traced along over the ink without truly seeing it. She was holding a note. She was holding something _readable_. No pictures, no odd figures, but actual letters that made words when put in proper order. She was an editor- written language was something she treasured. And now, this small note joined the list of things she loved to read. And she still hadn't read it.

She focused on the words- made herself read them. Once, twice, three, then four times. Finally the meaning sunk in. Finally she realized what she held in her hand. Death. She held death in her hands. And maybe freedom.

_'__M'aidez, ma sœur, et je vous aiderai. _

_Alma.'_

Mayday.

It was real.


	5. The Fall of Man

He stared at the front door.

It was black, like the shutters. It made the house look more sophisticated, Mrs. Waterford had said. He had nodded along. That was all she had wanted him to do anyway. It was part of how he ended up here. How he ended up in this house with a Martha and a Wife. It was how he ended up with an envelope with the dossiers of three Handmaids.

His driver was watching him. He could feel the question that wasn't being asked. But he didn't move to get out. He wasn't ready to leave the car yet. It was still the place he felt most comfortable. Not the spare bedroom he slept in. Not the office that felt too nice for a guy like him. Not with his _wife_.

He looked down at the envelope in his hand. He didn't want a Handmaid. He didn't want to bring a baby into this world. Especially not _his_ baby- no kid deserved that. But mostly he couldn't imagine forcing a woman to give up her child so another woman- a child, actually- could raise it.

But he already knew he had no choice. He could get away with not sleeping with his wife, but Gilead wouldn't tolerate him not taking a Handmaid- not completing the Ceremony. He may be a Commander now, but that didn't mean anything. He was low-ranking and new. And if someone questioned his loyalty to Gilead's values- if they thought he was rebelling- they would put him on the wall. He didn't mind that so much.

But he had a feeling the fifteen year old he was married to would be right next to him.

The curtains at one of the windows fluttered- caught his eye. She was in there. She was waiting for him. And he knew that as soon as he walked in the house she would be there, smiling so hopefully. He hated it. He hated how he walked past her as if she didn't matter. He hated that doing anything else would encourage her. He hated that he couldn't just explain what this all was. Because if he could just _talk_ to her then maybe she'd stop wishing for him to fuck her.

But that wouldn't work. She had too much faith in Gilead. She was too innocent. Their age difference wouldn't matter to her. The wrongness of this whole thing wouldn't come through for her. And there was a higher chance of her saying the wrong thing to the wrong person and getting them both in trouble. Still, he hated the tension that was always in that house- tension he couldn't break.

He watched as the curtain moved again.

He couldn't hide out in the car. He had to go in. He had to read the files in his hand. He had to decide which woman to rape on a monthly basis. He took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. He glanced at his driver. He had never been a jealous guy. But he was jealous now, because this guy wasn't married to a literal child. This guy wasn't forced to play a part he didn't want. This guy wouldn't have to live with the guilt that he would soon be living with.

He got out of the car and walked up to the porch. Mrs. Waterford had called it a veranda. He didn't get the difference- didn't care. The door opened before he could pull his key from his pocket. And there she was- Mrs. Blaine. Eden. Named after paradise, the place where man first sinned. Innocent and sweet and unaware of how truly fucked up things were about to become. Her parents named her the right thing.

She smiled- wide and hopeful. He nodded- short and indifferent.

She stepped aside. He walked past.

The door closed behind him.

He was trapped.


	6. Chapter 4

June didn't know what happened after she read Ofjames- _Alma's-_ note.

It was so crazy. She had heard of an underground movement. People trying to escape Gilead, bring down the government, free the Handmaids. But in the middle of a Ceremony or during one of Aunt Lydia's punishments, resistance sounded like a fairytale. Something people told themselves to keep from suffocating in this place.

She never thought it could be true.

But she had proof. It was in her hands. Or it had been. She had torn the paper up after her fifteenth time reading it. Then she had flushed the pieces down the toilet, terrified that somehow the Commander or Mrs. Blaine or Sarah would know she had read it- would barge in and hand her over to the Eyes to be tortured. They didn't, of course. But her mind was still trapped by the words she had read- by what they meant. What they _could_ mean.

So she was surprised when Sarah woke her up the next morning. She hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep. The day was shot for June- she didn't even go to the market. She should have. She wanted more information. But instead she had passed the day in her room, trying to think of ways she could help. Thinking of ways they could get her out.

Then Sarah came to get her ready for the Ceremony. She had completely forgotten about it. Secret organizations could have that effect apparently. She had practically turned into a robot- moving when Sarah told her to. Responding with the expected-_programed_\- responses. But her mind…it was thinking of anything but Sarah or the Ceremony or anything related to the Blaine house.

She followed Sarah down the stairs to the sitting room. The yellow for once not even registering in June's mind. She knelt like she was supposed to. She listened while the Commander read the bible. She rose as she followed Mrs. Blaine to her room. It was all by rote. Walk. Turn. Sit. Lay back. Hands up. Legs closed. Motions she no longer had to think about.

Until the side door opened.

It was amazing how her mind could snap right back into focus when she didn't want it to. Her eyes went to the Commander and she finally felt the weight of Mrs. Blaine's hands clasped around her wrists. She heard the shallow breaths from the woman- girl- behind her. The sound of a zipper, the gentle pressure of the Commander's hands parting her legs- it all came to her attention.

She looked at the Commander. He was staring at the place on the wall above Mrs. Blaine's head again. But this time June was sure she could see a little bit of emotion behind his eyes. '_Cause you're an expert on the man now?_ One conversation didn't mean she knew him. But it still felt like he was more open than last time.

He pressed inside of her and June startled at the feel of a condom again. She had forgotten. How had she forgotten that? _Possible revolution. Right._ Still, her reaction brought the Commander's eyes to hers for a fraction of a second. In warning? To check in? She didn't know- couldn't tell. But that hint of emotion seemed a little bit stronger.

She let her eyes leave him and go to the ceiling. She listed as many colors as she could think of- by family. She itemized all of the things she wanted to wear if she ever got out of this place. She was just thinking of the bikini she had worn the last summer before everything went to shit when it happened. Something changed. His rhythm, his speed, she wasn't really sure. But it felt…good. Her eyes dropped to his face and he was back to being perfectly emotionless.

_So he's doing it on purpose._

He pushed in a little bit deeper- barely noticeable- and she felt herself getting turned on. He did it again and she bit the inside of her lip to keep from gasping in pleasure. _This isn't right_. She tried to keep her breathing normal. Tried to remind herself why she couldn't enjoy this. But it wasn't working. Then he pushed in a little deeper and she lost her train of thought completely. Her hips tilted up into his thrust. His eyes met hers and she could have sworn she saw something there before he looked away. _Asshole._ But he was still moving just right. He was still hitting that spot inside of her that made the world seem brighter and her lungs feel smaller.

Her toes curled inside her boots and her muscles tensed as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She didn't know what to do. This wasn't allowed. She wasn't supposed to enjoy it. But she couldn't exactly _stop_ it. Her breathing hitched and her fists were so tight her nails were going to leave marks. His hips shifted the smallest bit and she bit her tongue as she came, her inner muscles clamping down hard around the Commander.

He pretended to come again. She almost didn't notice- she was so lost in how good it felt. But she knew he hadn't come that time either. _That's twice, now._ He pulled out slowly- or maybe it just felt slow to her. She was way too sensitive. It had been too long since the last time a man had given her an orgasm. Her body wasn't prepared. She watched as he cleaned himself up- well she stared at his back at least.

Mrs. Blaine let go of June's wrists and slid up the bed to lean against the headboard. For a moment June's heart stopped. Had she realized something was off? Did she know what had just happened? She looked at the girl to see, but she looked the same as she always did. Her cheeks red from embarrassment, innocent eyes with a hint of sadness in them. June's buzz faded as she looked at Mrs. Blaine. Her husband had just intentionally gotten June off. And the girl didn't even know it.

She looked back to the Commander and found him watching his wife closely. "Eden?" _What kind of name is that? No one would really name their kid that, would they? _But apparently they did because Mrs. Blaine looked up. "What's wrong?" The Commander's voice wasn't very soft or even particularly caring, but when June glanced back, Mrs. Blaine was staring at him like he had just offered her the sun, moon, and stars.

Mrs. Blaine looked at June for a second before shaking her head quickly. "Nothing. I just hope that God blesses us with a child soon." It was like someone had slapped June in the face. Slowly she sat up. _How could you forget? You're only here so she can steal your baby one day._ Except- her husband kept sabotaging the whole thing with his condoms and not coming thing.

The Commander nodded as June stood to leave the room. The Commander was supposed to leave first, but June couldn't wait. She kept her face calm as she walked to the door and left. She didn't even pause when she heard the door open and close again behind her. She rushed to her room and fell onto her bed.

He had made her come. He had made her come for no reason. And, damn it, she kinda wanted him to do it again.

_This is getting more and more fucked by the minute._

* * *

She had been in bed for nearly two hours when someone knocked on her door. For a minute June thought about ignoring it- pretending she was asleep. But she…couldn't. She wanted to know who had come to her room. She wanted to know why. She wondered if it was the Commander trying to repeat what had happened between them- the talk or the orgasm. She'd take one. The other…she couldn't risk it. No matter how good it had felt at the time.

The knock came again and June pulled herself out of the warm bed and made her way to the door. It wasn't the Blaine she expected. Instead the Commander's wife stood in the hall dressed in a simple white nightgown that covered her from head to toe. It was like June had stepped into the 17th century.

"Can I come in?" _Like I have a choice_. June pushed that thought away and gestured for the girl to come inside. Mrs. Blaine circled the room for a moment before perching in the window seat. "I'm sorry for coming so late. I just needed…to talk?" She sounded so young. And scared. She sounded like her world was falling apart and she didn't know how to stop it.

June knew that feeling intimately.

"It's alright." It wasn't. It was odd and against the rules and just…not what June wanted to deal with after a Ceremony- even a pleasurable one. "How can I help?" She watched as Mrs. Blaine twisted her fingers together and stared out the window. She looked so small, so innocent. Who thought she was ready to be someone's wife? She was barely a teenager.

"Do you know how me and my husband met?" June shook her head slowly. This felt like a trap, but she didn't know why. Mrs. Blaine nodded distractedly. June could tell she was in another place, another time. "It was on our wedding day." June's eyes widened at that. "He was a driver. For Commander Waterford. I was just a girl from a farm." June felt a sense of dread creeping into her veins. "They told me what was happening, but I think I knew, when I saw him, that no one had told him anything."

_No wonder he can barely look at her. _

"He had done something- something important. No one would tell me what at first, though. But what he did, his Commander seemed really proud of him. He asked for my husband to be promoted to Commander." It seemed a little extreme to June. Going from driver to Commander in one day. It didn't sound right. "We were part of a mass wedding- lots of Guardians getting promoted and the marriages were part of it. I was so excited." June could hear the wistfulness in Mrs. Blaine's voice. It made her chest hurt. "But, I guess it wasn't really a promotion…."

June spoke before she could stop herself. "What do you mean?"

Mrs. Blaine turned from the window and stared at June for a long moment. There was so much in the girl's eyes- so much pain and sadness and slowly dying hope. "The Commander found out that Mrs. Waterford tried to use my husband to get a Handmaid pregnant. She said Commander Waterford couldn't do it. Nick said no, but he got punished anyway. With the marriage. With _me_. I think because I'm so young?"

June didn't want to hear anymore. She remembered her first day. Remembered how she had thought this girl was a victim, forced into a marriage with a perverted child molester. But the truth was they both were victims. The Commander had been forced into a marriage he couldn't say no to with someone- a child- he didn't want. And Mrs. Blaine…She was just a means to an end- a pawn in the hands of petty, vengeful men. It explained the distance. It explained the condoms. It explained everything she hadn't wanted to ask or know about their marriage.

"My husband hates me," she said brokenly, defeat dripping from every word. "But I think I could love him- he's really a good man. I know he is- I can see it. But I don't know how I can make him happy." Tears glistened in Mrs. Blaine's eyes and spilled over. June had to force herself to stay where she was. "I don't know what to do," the girl whispered, her voice breaking around the words.

_Fuck you Gilead. Fuck you Waterford. Just…fuck this._

She wanted to scream it. She wanted to go over and hug this little girl who was trying to be a woman before she was ready. It was crazy and sick and wrong. But she didn't. She stayed where she was. Because there was nothing she could say or do anyway. Not really. _There's Mayday_. June shoved that thought into a dark corner of her mind. She couldn't risk it- not even for this child. Not when she didn't know how it worked. And she felt like a bitch but…

She had to think of herself first.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Blaine," she started, trying to think of something…appropriate to say. "But the Lord knows what's best. He allowed these things to happen for a reason, right?" The girl nodded, a faint smile coming to her lips. June held in a sigh. She really believed everything Gilead stood for, didn't she? "Maybe in time the Commander will open up to you. When you're older, maybe." June doubted it. Something about the man told her he would never be able to look at his wife the way she wanted him to.

But the words brought Mrs. Blaine out of her sad thoughts. June could pinpoint the moment her words sunk in. It was as if the girl was seeing the sun for the first time after a hurricane. Her smile was soft and full of hope. It made June's chest hurt to watch. _When did I start giving false hope to kids? _But there was no other kind of hope to give. Gilead killed it, systematically and thoroughly.

"Thank you, Ofnicholas."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Blaine."

* * *

It happened again. The Commander came to the kitchen while Sarah was out of the house with Mrs. Blaine. This time June knew he hadn't expected to see her. His steps had faltered for a moment at the door. But then she watched as he shook it off and went to the refrigerator. "Good afternoon." She was the only one in the room, but she still looked behind her to be sure.

"Good afternoon, Commander Blaine." He paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder at her. There was that flash of something again. He turned away and grabbed a pitcher of lemonade and carried it to the table. Then he went to the cabinet and grabbed a glass- held it up to her in question. "Yes, thank you." He took out another one and carried them to the table and poured for both of them. He slid her glass to her slowly.

The glass was cool against her fingers as June pulled it closer to her. She wiped away the condensation that was forming as she waited for the Commander to leave. But he didn't. He sat at the table with her like he had the other night. "They offered me your file- before Mrs. Blaine picked you," he said. June sat straighter. She hadn't known there was a file on her for them to see. But she wasn't surprised. And she didn't miss the fact that _Mrs. Blaine_ had picked her. She took a sip of her drink. "But I'd rather know the things you want me to know."

That surprised her. And it made her nervous. What was the point of this? What did he get out of it? He wasn't trying to get her pregnant. He never touched her outside of the Ceremony. Why was he starting conversations all of a sudden? She could imagine that her face showed all of her confusion and suspicion. But she couldn't help it. Not right then. So she blurted out, "The weather has been nice recently." _God, June way to go. Smoothest subject change in history._

The Commander kept the same blank expression. "It has." God, she felt like an idiot. He took a deep breath, then, "You don't have to tell me anything." She took another sip of lemonade to keep from fidgeting. She didn't know what to say or do. But he spoke again. "I hope it rains soon." She quirked an eyebrow at that. She liked when it rained, too. It matched the way she thought Gilead should look- dreary and depressing. She watched the man sitting next to her. He wasn't looking at her anymore. His focus was on something outside. It made it easier to breathe. He wasn't expecting anything from her- a first for a man in Gilead.

"Did you listen to a lot of music? Before?" She didn't know where the question came from or why she asked it. She was happy with the silence. She wanted him to go away, didn't she? So why the fuck was she asking him about his music habits? His eyes slid to hers slowly, and she caught that hint of amusement again as he nodded. "What kind?"

He turned slightly in his chair so he could face her better. "Pop, mostly. Some R&B, a little Rap. Motown was big in my family- my mom was from Detroit." She didn't miss the way he looked away when he mentioned him mom. _So family is a touchy subject._ "What about you?"

"Oh a little bit of everything. Just not Country." She added a slight southern twang to the last word and the Commander let out another almost smile. Her lips tipped up a little bit, too. "I liked Indie Rock…a lot. And Classical, sometimes." She took in the way he was watching her as she spoke. It was intense without being overwhelming. It made June wonder when the last time he had an actual conversation was. One that wasn't dictated by Gilead's rhetoric.

The sound of the gate opening startled June. "Sarah's back," the Commander said as if to reassure her. June nodded while she took a deep breath. Her heart was beating a little too fast. It reminded her of how dangerous this conversation was- how dangerous it was to be alone in a room with this man- any man. Standing calmly, the Commander grabbed the pitcher of lemonade. June watched as he returned it to the refrigerator. "It was nice talking to you," he said as he took his glass from the table and made his way out of the kitchen.

"You too."

The back door opened as he turned into the hallway.

She was pretty sure she had seen a smile.


	7. Red

The Red Center.

It wasn't red- it was grey. Like a prison. It was a prison. It was the holding place for the sinful, ungodly whores of Babylon. Guards at each door. Bars at every window. Aunt Lydia was the Warden. Aunt Rachel was her second in command. Aunt Lydia teaches and Aunt Rachel punishes- Good cop, Bad cop.

But she wasn't being punished today. She should be. But no one knew that. If they knew, she'd be hanging from the wall. If they knew, they wouldn't be so nice to her. Because she had committed the ultimate sin- in their eyes. But they didn't know. All they knew was that Mrs. Phillips had used the fire iron as a punishment. That wasn't allowed. Handmaids were not to be harmed in any way that could cause permanent damage.

That was Aunt Rachel's job- ask Janine about her eye.

Rolling out of bed was hard. Sitting up was harder. Her stomach and sides were sore from her beating. But there was another pain- deeper, secret- that made her breath hitch. The Phillips' second Martha- Annalise- she didn't know better. She was young. She was innocent. So when the Handmaid asked for sesame seeds, honey, and chamomile, there had been no hesitation.

It had been unpleasant. She had gotten sick of the taste of chamomile. She had hated the sight of sesame seeds. But she didn't stop until there was blood in her panties. She wasn't leaving a baby in that house. She wasn't leaving _her_ baby in that house. So the baby had to stop existing. A beating by Mrs. Phillips seemed like a small price to pay.

Unless you asked her ribs.

She sat on the edge of her bed and stared out the barred windows. She looked at the not-red walls and the not-red floors and the not-red ceiling. The beds were red, though. So that was something. She thought of the conversation she had heard the other day. She had two weeks. Two weeks and then she would be re-posted. Back out on the market.

Janine had already gone to her new post. And Emily would be gone in a few hours. Hannah and Brianna were going to deliver their babies soon. And then it would all start over again. A new house. A new Commander. A new Wife. She wondered where she'd go. She wondered if she'd be stuck in a house like the one she just left. She wondered if it would be worse.

Nothing ever got better in Gilead so she wasn't hoping for an upgrade.

The dorm doors swung open and she turned. Aunt Lydia was there, medicine bag in hand. Sometimes she could almost look like she cared. Sometimes she could almost seem human. Aunt Lydia walked over and set her bag on the bed. She knelt down in front of her troublesome Babylonian Whore. Or June- whichever is easier to say at the moment. Pale hands pressed on a red covered stomach. Brown eyes took in purple bruises. Aunt Lydia saw everything, they said. But they were wrong.

Praised be for small miracles.


	8. Chapter 5

**AN**: A lot happens in this story that I don't write. it's been three months since June got to the Blaine house. She's been getting to know Nick for two of those months. They aren't as unsure of each other emotionally. Just, keep that in mind as you read.

This chapter has a Ceremony, fair warning. But honestly, at this point it feels less like a Ceremony and more like smut with Eden as an unobservant voyeur.

* * *

June and the Commander somehow found themselves talking at the kitchen table a lot over the next month. Small talk, _more_ than small talk. But it was nice. It felt like June could be herself- even if only a little bit. Sarah had caught them once, but she hadn't said anything and they had been more careful afterwards. Surprisingly, June enjoyed those little moments too much to be careless.

Things between the Commander and Mrs. Blaine were different, too. He said more than hello to her now. At least from what June had noticed. Sarah seemed to think things were better, too. She kept mentioning how much more the Commander's wife smiled. Either way, June was happy for the girl. Any glimmer of happiness a person could find in this place, they should grab on to with both hands.

Things were oddly good in the Blaine household. Which is the reason June told herself she should have known something would ruin it. Because nothing good could last in Gilead. Still, she hadn't been prepared for what she learned.

She had gone down to the garden that morning. It was the best place to find Mrs. Blaine. Sarah needed some herbs and although she had permission to get what she needed, the Martha always asked first. Just in case. So June had volunteered to go for her. Like she had done plenty of other times since she arrived. She had picked one of the lilies by the back door, she had watched as a butterfly fluttered from flower to flower. And when she reached the greenhouse, June hadn't even thought to knock. She never did.

She opened the door…and froze.

Mrs. Blaine was against a support beam in the center of the greenhouse. Guardian Isaac was pressed against her. She had her hands in his hair and his were on her waist. And June didn't know what the fuck to do. Because this was illegal. It was a hanging offense. They would both be on the wall or worse.

But…it was also a teenager kissing a boy she liked.

June could remember sneaking around when she was a teenager, kissing behind bleachers and finding dark corners to make out in. She remembered the first time she and Luke had met up in that hotel room, how excited and nervous she had been. How in love she had felt. It was a feeling Gilead said was wrong. And just for that June didn't want to say anything. A silent 'Fuck you' to the dipshits who ran this place.

So she had slipped out of the greenhouse quietly. She made her way back into the kitchen. When Sarah had asked, June said she didn't find Mrs. Blaine. And that was the end of it. Or she had hoped it was. It wasn't until the Commander had come into the kitchen for their usual chat. Then June hadn't been able to stop thinking about it- the fact that this man's wife was kissing someone else.

* * *

It shouldn't matter. June knew it shouldn't matter. The Commander didn't want Mrs. Blaine that way. And obviously Guardian Isaac _did_. But June couldn't shake the feeling that the Commander should know. Not because of the infidelity- it was more than that. It was the risk that Mrs. Blaine was taking. It was the fact that the Commander would have to be the one to punish her if she got caught- and he may not love her as a wife, but it hadn't taken long for June to realize that the Commander felt responsible for Mrs. Blaine.

It was more stress than June wanted. First finding out about Mayday and Alma. Now this. She didn't know how many more life-threatening secrets she could juggle before something dropped. And she wasn't sure when it had happened but she felt an odd sense of loyalty to the Commander. It was as if their little secret about the condoms and their talks these last two months had bonded them somehow- no matter how impossible it seemed.

June sat on her bed, listening to Sarah and Mrs. Blaine talking in the kitchen. Their voices were the same. There was no tension, no pauses from Mrs. Blaine to indicate guilt or a lie. And why should there be? It's not like Sarah was going to ask her if she had sucked face with _not_ the Commander. God, this wasn't even something Mrs. Blaine had to actually _lie_ about. She just had to be her usual self. The sweet, shy, innocent girl who wanted her husband to notice her.

"This is so fucked," June whispered to the ceiling.

The front door opened and June could hear the Commander's confident tread as he moved through his house. The conversation in the kitchen paused for a moment, but it always did when the Commander came home. She could just make out the Commander's voice, probably giving his usual greeting to Sarah and Mrs. Blaine. Then Mrs. Blaine's soft response. Was June being crazy or was there an edge of sarcasm in her tone?

"Let me be crazy. No, let this morning have been a weird depression induced hallucination." She fell back on her bed. "I need a drink." How did she end up in this situation? Alma kept dropping hints about Mayday meetings. Meetings June wanted to go to. Meetings that would get her killed. The Commander was asking less small talk questions and more _real_ questions lately. Questions that said 'I want to know you'. Questions that said 'Maybe we can be friends'. She didn't need to worry about Mrs. Blaine's secret boyfriend, too.

Or what it would mean for her if Mrs. Blaine was executed.

Would she be posted somewhere else? Somewhere worse? Would she still have to finish her two years? How would that work? How would it look to the other Commanders and Wives and Handmaids? Would it change things between June and the Commander? Would they just assign him a new- better- wife? God, did this girl not realize how many lives she was messing with? Was it really worth it for some dick? _She probably hasn't even gotten any. It would be wrong._ More wrong than cheating on her husband in the first place.

The husband who doesn't want her. The husband who barely talks to her. _It's getting better._ God, who was she trying to convince? And did June really have room to judge? Because she certainly hadn't given Luke's wife one thought when they started their affair. And Luke never acted like he was worried about Annie's feelings when he was with her. Love was such a bitch.

None of that mattered, though, because she should tell the Commander.

She just...didn't

* * *

She talked to Alma. Well, Alma talked to her. Again. She wanted June to come to a meeting with her. A Mayday meeting. She wanted to introduce her to the people she worked with- some of them, anyway. And June… She wanted to. But she also wanted to live long enough to get out of Gilead.

The rebellion was growing. There was unrest in some of the outer sections of Gilead. Mayday was hearing things. Things June couldn't learn more about unless she was really in. And she wanted to know. She wanted to help. But the timing was bad. And her situation was…unique.

Her mistress was having an affair. Her Commander was breaking all kinds of rules. If June got involved- if someone started looking into her life because of this Mayday thing- her entire house could fall. And even though she didn't completely understand the Blaines that didn't mean she wanted anything bad to happen to them. No one else in Gilead had treated her with as much respect as Commander Blaine- not even other Handmaids. And Mrs. Blaine…she didn't know how to be mean.

June walked down the street. It was so quiet- so orderly. She hated it. There were no kids laughing. There were no people rushing to work or to the mall. There was just the steady beat of her feet on the sidewalk. There was just the overbearing presence of the Guardians lining the streets. It really was a prison, this place. _But what if Mayday could get you out? _She should try right? And maybe they could get other Handmaids out, or kids. That's what Alma said the goal was.

"How would I meet your people?"

She pretended not to see the surprise on Alma's face when she looked at her. But she understood. June had been trying to keep from being a real part of the resistance since Alma mentioned it. It was kind of shitty- wanting information but not being willing to risk anything for it. Alma kept her pace regular, she kept her muscles loose. "There are steps. I have to get permission to bring you in again."

June nodded. Not in agreement, just to acknowledge Alma's words. "I need more time to think about it. Things are…complicated lately." And she was scared. More than scared. But she didn't need to tell Alma that. "Why did you tell me about this?" That had been the question that crept into June's head most often. The one she could never come up with a good answer for.

"You're smart- smart enough to act like you're not. And you hate this place." June couldn't argue with that. "And I saw your file. You're from around here. Most of my group came from out of state. You can be useful." June nodded along. She could see where Alma was coming from. "Besides, if you fuck up… What's one more dead handmaid, right?"

* * *

It took her two days to notice. Well technically it took a month and two days. But still, it took two days for her to figure out what was different between her and the Commander. If she had been anywhere else it would have been instantaneous. Anywhere else she would have been thinking about what she'd say the next time she saw him or what she'd wear. But she wasn't anywhere else. And it felt so crazy she didn't even consider it a possibility. Besides, there was Alma and Mayday and now Mrs. Blaine's secret. Her mind was a little busy dealing with other things. So it took two days for her to realize that small talk had turned to flirting.

It was subtle. Mostly nonverbal. Because there were rules. But now that she realized what was happening it was hard to miss. Quietly mimicking each other's actions. The spark of amusement in his eyes. The way her words were _just_ this side of suggestive. Her fingers brushing his when he got her something to drink. It was all obvious…_now._

She glanced at the man seated across from her at the table. He was watching her intently, the corners of his mouth tipped up just barely. They were talking about high school- the popular kids. She had been one. He hadn't - which, honestly, she wasn't surprised. She told him about band practice and soccer. But the intense look had only come in when she mentioned cheer camp. And now that she'd seen it, she liked it.

"You were a cheerleader?" She nodded slowly. "Were you any good?"

She looked him straight in the eye, smirk playing at her lips. "People said I was." His lips twitched up for a second, almost like he wasn't sure she was serious. Then his smile widened, no hiding it now. He ducked his head then glanced up at her. She felt a hum of energy under her skin as she looked at him. It was nice.

He shook his head, raising it so that she could see his entire face again. "Maybe you can show me one day," he said, voice low and delicious. It took a moment for the words to register as his voice settled over her and sent her stomach swirling. Then her cheeks were getting a little warm. _Really, June? Blushing? _But it was the most openly flirty thing he'd said to her. And it implied that this thing they had going wasn't just words- or at least that it didn't have to stay that way.

For some reason that thought didn't bother her.

She smiled back at him. "Maybe." She slowly stood from the table and moved to the cabinet. His eyes followed her across the room. She took down two glasses. Moving to his side of the table June stopped behind the Commander. Her breathing was a little uneven and her stomach was in knots. This was dangerous- she was risking so much. But she still pressed close to the Commander from behind. She still leaned over his shoulder to place his glass on the table in front of him. He turned his head as she bent over him and their faces were inches apart.

_Don't look, June. Don't you dare turn your head._

His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip and June froze- hovering beside him in a trance. Her teeth caught her lower lip and the sting of it made her wish it was him doing the biting. _Shit, shit, shit! _God, what were they doing? She slowly released her lip and straightened up. She took a step towards the refrigerator as footsteps came from down the hall. June took a deep breath to compose herself right as Sarah walked into the kitchen.

The Martha jerked to a stop in the doorway as she realized that June wasn't alone. But she recovered quickly. The Commander stood up and took his unused glass to the sink while June poured herself some juice as if nothing had just happened between them. "Good afternoon, Sarah," he said as he moved towards the doorway. The Martha nodded confusedly, but didn't say anything. June sipped her juice as she turned to face the room. The Commander caught her eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Then he was gone and June had to help Sarah prepare dinner while ignoring how warm she suddenly felt.

* * *

She was nervous for the Ceremony that night. She had butterflies. Which was fucking ridiculous because why the hell was she excited to have sex with someone while his wife held her down_? God this place is so fucked up._ But even though she knew that, it didn't change the fact that June was practically dripping as she knelt in the sitting room while Commander Blaine read the scripture. _That had to be some kind of sin, right? No one should be this turned on while reading about biblical infertility._

She was crazy- she could admit it.

But then she had to wait. And wait. And fucking _wait._ It seemed like the Commander took days to finally open the door to Mrs. Blaine's bedroom. But when he did, June could immediately sense the change in him. He was still seemingly cold and mostly expressionless, but June could feel…something. Some energy radiating off of him that made her want him.

Her eyes tracked him as he moved across the room getting ready. When he finally came to the bed he quirked an eyebrow at her. It took way longer than it should have to realize he was waiting for her to lie down and get in position. But she noticed the spark of amusement in his eyes right away. She was picking up on those things more now. She kept her eyes on his as she laid down and hoped he couldn't tell that she was struggling to keep her breathing even.

She almost startled when Mrs. Blaine took her wrists. She had honestly forgotten about her. The way the Commander's eyes seemed to be smiling at her was a little distracting. Especially since the man had never showed anything close to emotion during Ceremonies before. But June got herself under control. Well, mostly. She couldn't do much about how wet she was or the fact that she felt like electricity was surging through her veins in anticipation.

But finally, _finally_, he pressed inside of her. _God, we should flirt more often_. It felt incredible. She forced her eyes to stay open- made herself keep a neutral expression. But she was dying inside. He pulled out slowly and June met his eyes. It was a mistake. A big mistake. All the mistakes.

Because, _damn_…

There was this edge of wildness in his eyes as he looked at her. Hell, she was losing it at the fact that he _was _looking at her. And then he pressed back in and she saw his jaw clench. She was wrapped around him tight, she knew she was. She could feel him so perfectly against her walls. He blinked rapidly, lashes fluttering before he finally hit as far as he could go. Then he found a rhythm- a good one. It was not too fast, but not slower than usual. Mrs. Blaine wouldn't notice. But June did. And it was fucking fantastic.

His hips twisted at the end of each thrust and she clamped down around his cock every time he pulled back. Her hands were fisted tight and she was biting her tongue to keep quiet. It felt so good. Too good. Amazing. Suddenly her hips tipped up to meet the Commander's. She felt fire scorch under her veins, and her breathing hitched at the way his rhythm faltered mid-thrust. June's eyes darted up to see if Mrs. Blaine had seen. But the girl was staring at the same design on the duvet that she always seemed to find so interesting.

So June tilted her hips up again. And again, until she was subtly meeting his thrusts. Until her nerves were on the brink of overwhelming her. _He isn't even using his hands. How the fuck? _She watched a bead of sweat slide down the side of his neck as he fought to stay unaffected. She wanted to lick it. She wanted…

Fuck, she _wanted._

And that thought…as her eyes locked on his- saw how they were burning for her-as he moved in and out of her just right. It was over. She couldn't have held back if she tried. She came-_hard._ Her thighs clamped around him, keeping him close, her stomach clenched tight, her fingers shook. Every nerve in her body seemed to be going off as pleasure burned through her- left her breathless and dizzy.

Then she felt it. _Oh, God. Oh, sweet Jesus._ The Commander came. For real. Not faked. And it was devastating to her equilibrium. His face lost all of its neutrality. The veins in his neck stood out, his eyes slammed shut, she could feel his breathing hitch, and she almost came again when he bit his lower lip- the one she desperately wanted to taste.

But the visible proof of his release lasted only three seconds. Then his face had returned to its carefully blank default. He pulled out slowly, as if he wasn't ready to be two separate entities again so soon. She understood- he wasn't even all the way out yet and she wanted him back in. But she kept still and quiet like she was supposed to.

Mrs. Blaine let go of her and June sat up carefully. She waited for the Commander to leave the room first. He stood at the table for a little longer than usual, but June didn't blame him. She didn't feel too steady yet either. Finally he turned back around. He nodded to Mrs. Blaine like he always did. Then he briefly caught June's eye. Her lips twitched up into a small smile and she watched his lips twitch in response.

As she walked back to her room, June couldn't help thinking that if this was the way their Ceremonies would be going from now on…

She didn't mind.

* * *

Things were different after the Ceremony. Mrs. Blaine stayed out a little longer in the garden each day. Or her visits with the other Wives would take more time than usual. She always had a perfectly reasonable excuse that no one questioned. Not that June cared. Because it worked out that Mrs. Blaine's longer visits meant that she had more time alone with the Commander.

_June, you never learn. This is literally the reason you're a Handmaid- flirting with married men._

But she pushed that thought away. Like she pushed the thoughts of Luke away when they crept in- usually while she fingered herself to memories of the Commander coming. That image was seared into her brain. She saw it every time she closed her eyes for more than a second. It was driving her crazy how overactive her sex drive was suddenly. But she indulged in every ounce of desire because- well because it was her damn body and she could do what she wanted. At least behind her closed door.

It had been a week since the Ceremony and June was sitting in the kitchen. If Sarah had asked, June would have told her she wanted some fruit. But Sarah was out for the afternoon visiting the other Marthas. The front door opened and June sat up straighter in her chair. But the sound of women's heels on the hardwood floor had June sinking back into her chair.

Mrs. Blaine walked past the kitchen without even glancing inside. Her face was flushed and her hair wasn't as perfectly styled as it should have been after a visit. But June didn't say anything. Mostly because she didn't want to talk to the girl. Mrs. Blaine made her feel guilty- for too many reasons. So June sat and waited a little longer. Even though she wouldn't be able to talk to the Commander now, she still wanted to see him when he came in.

But she sat for another thirty minutes and he still hadn't come in yet. He should have. He always came in an hour before Sarah started supper. The back door opened and June turned around to see who it was. She must have looked anxious because Sarah paused in the door before actually stepping inside the house. Something small and heavy settled in the center of June's chest. And each minute that the Commander didn't come back it got bigger and heavier.

_Something's wrong._

She told herself she was being paranoid- he just had extra paperwork that day. But she didn't believe it. Sarah had just finished dinner- the sun would be setting soon. That's when they heard it. It made June think of thunder. Then it made her think of the explosions she used to see in movies. She froze. So did Sarah. Then everything was chaos.

Guardians burst into the house.

Broken voices came through radios.

_'Bomb at the Rachel and Bilhah Center…'_

_'Get the Commanders out…'_

_'Round up the Handmaids…'_

_'Commander Jones accounted for…'_

_'Do you have eyes on Waterford?'_

_'I don't see Blaine. Has anyone seen Commander Blaine?'_

Somehow June and Sarah ended up in the sitting room with Mrs. Blaine. The radios were quiet. She didn't remember walking there. She didn't remember sitting down. But she must have. She did remember Guardian Michael coming in. She remembered him kneeling down in front of the Commander's wife. She remembered the nausea that crept up her throat as her mind started chanting that he was dead- that Guardian Michael had come to tell them the Commander was dead.

_He's dead._

_He's dead._

_My Commander is dead._


	9. Hear No Evil

**AN:** The oneshots are going to be within the timeline of the story from now on. No more prequels.

* * *

"…This new facility will help to produce the best Handmaids to serve God and Gilead. We are truly blessed to have such willing and grateful souls to ensure the survival of God's people. Here in Gilead we…"

He stopped listening. It was all lies anyway. Waterford was good with those. The truth was the new building was just another place for Gilead to break people. And the Handmaids weren't willing. Any gratitude was fake…or forced. He may not be high ranking, but he still knew what happened when Handmaid's stepped out of line.

He looked around the room. Handmaids stood at the back along the glass wall. The red of their uniforms was like a sea of blood. It made him sick even if he couldn't show it. And the other Commanders… They were so proud of themselves. They were adding new faces to their rotation. They would have new playthings to torture.

He thought of his Handmaid. He didn't like to think of her that way. She was more than a red dress to him- especially recently. Recently she had become the person he could be completely himself with. Recently she was the person he felt safe with. Safety in Gilead was an illusion, but with her it almost felt real- attainable. She was smart and witty. She told awful jokes that he couldn't help but laugh at.

He couldn't imagine her standing with the other Handmaids. He couldn't picture her being so exposed to the eyes of the other Commanders. It made his chest tight, and his palms sweat. She wasn't a toy. None of them were. But he wasn't allowed to say so. It wouldn't change anything if he did. Gilead would silence him. It was how all threats were handled. He didn't expect-

_Bang_

His eyes shot to the front of the room at the sound of Waterford's hand meeting the podium. "Our world was dying! And God gave _us_ the vision to save it. He called _us_ to preserve his world and his people…" A shaky breath brought his heart rate back to normal. Of course Waterford would get excited about his own shit. There was nothing that man cared about more than his image.

Again the words coming from the front faded into the background. He didn't need to hear this. He didn't want to be there. He just had to make it through. Then he could go home. His mind went to the night before. She had met him in the kitchen again. He was still surprised each time she showed up- each time she stayed. He had wanted to touch her. Nothing serious, he just wanted to hold her hand.

He hadn't, of course. He had stayed on his side of the table. He had kept his hands to himself. Even when she had run her hand up his arm. Even when she had hovered over him, lips two inches from his. He hadn't moved. And he wouldn't. She could tease as much as she wanted, but he wouldn't make the first move. It had to be on her terms.

It didn't stop him from wanting to kiss her, though. It hadn't stopped him from teasing her right back. And he wanted to go home and do it all again. He wanted to play their game. He wanted to see her fighting her desires just like he was fighting his. But mostly he wanted to ask her about her day and listen to all the sarcastic commentary he knew she had.

His mind suddenly pulled him from thoughts of blue eyes and blonde hair. He felt someone watching him. The skin on the back of his neck tingled. Turning around he subtly took in the room. His eyes landed on one of the Handmaids. She was out of formation. He could see the other Handmaids watching her with confusion. But he wasn't confused. He saw the look in her eye. He knew what it meant.

He was on his feet without thinking about it. His hand went out to get her attention, to stop her. But he knew it was too late. Even as he told her to stop. Even as he asked her to put down the detonator. It was always going to be too late. He watched her thumb press the button.

The ground shook. The windows shattered. Glass rained down, cut into his flesh.

A wall of heat…

Weightlessness…

Pain…

Darkness…

Nothing.


	10. Chapter 6

Guardian Michael knelt in front of Mrs. Blaine. Static filled June's ears. This was it. This was when they told them that he was gone.

"…Handmaid- Ofglen…"

"…don't have more..."

"He's in surgery…"

June's mind grabbed that last part and held on tight.

Then they waited.

* * *

No one slept that night. Mrs. Blaine stayed in her chair in the sitting room all night. Sarah went back and forth to the kitchen bringing drinks and snacks. And June…June paced. By the time morning had come she could tell anyone exactly how many yellow flowers there were in the entire room. She knew that there was a scratch in the pane on the lower left side of the second window- it was two inches long. She knew so much useless information she was sick with it.

But she didn't know how Nick was.

She didn't know when in the night she had latched on to the name Mrs. Blaine kept praying for. But she knew it was the Commander's name. And she figured she could use it just this once-at least in the safety of her own mind. Nick Blaine, Commander. Nick Blaine, husband. Nick Blaine- Skittles not M&Ms.

June paused in her pacing. The sun was up, and her eyes felt like someone threw sand in them. She turned to see Sarah, stretched out on the loveseat, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Mrs. Blaine was twisting the skirt of her dress- like she had the first day June got there. Had that really only been three months ago? It felt like another lifetime. Before the bombing felt like another lifetime.

Footsteps in the hall brought the three women's attention to the door. Guardian Michael stepped in and went to Mrs. Blaine. "Ma'am, he's out of surgery. The doctor says you can come see him now." June waited for Mrs. Blaine to jump up and go, but...she didn't. She just sat there…for a long time. "Mrs. Blaine?" The Guardian shot a worried glance around the room, eyes landing on June.

That was her cue. She left her spot by the window and went over to Mrs. Blaine. Reaching out, June gently took the girl's hands and pulled her out of the chair. "Mrs. Blaine?" The girl slowly shifted her eyes to meet June's. "We're going to go see Commander Blaine now, alright?" She watched as her words sunk in and the girl nodded. "Good. Let's go get changed and then we'll go." June looked at Sarah and the Martha nodded, stepping up to lead Mrs. Blaine out of the room. Guardian Michael left too.

Then, for the first time since the news, she was alone. Her chest was too tight. The room was too bright- almost white. She couldn't really hear anything other than this weird swooshing sound. And all she could think was that her Commander had been blown up. Her Commander had been in surgery all night. _Her_ Commander- June's- she had almost lost him.

And he wasn't even hers to lose.

* * *

None of them noticed the first three days. She and Sarah were just trying to keep the house running. They couldn't think of much more than that. And Mrs. Blaine- she was like a zombie. Or a ghost. And she was under a lot of pressure- more than she was ready for.

So they brushed it aside when she rushed to the bathroom after breakfast that first morning. And they said it was stress when she threw up everything she had eaten the second night. But the third morning- when Sarah found her, face pressed to the toilet- they couldn't ignore it anymore. And only June knew that it might be more than stress or a stomach bug.

Finding a way to approach a potentially pregnant teenager had never been something June thought she'd have to do. Thinking of a way to tell said teenager she knew about her illegal, punishable-by-death relationship wasn't any easier. But June figured that there was no time for subtle with this conversation. And gentle could come later- after they _knew._

So she waited until Sarah was gone to the market and headed to Mrs. Blaine's bedroom. It was odd going in that room when there was no Ceremony about to happen. June felt an inappropriate rush of warmth as she looked to the bed that the Commander had made her fall apart on. Then she felt guilt, because the man's wife was lying on said bed and had no clue. She pushed those thoughts away. Far away- galaxies away.

"Mrs. Blaine?" the girl rolled over slowly. June had to work to keep her face neutral. The girl looked awful- pale and sweaty, like the first whiff of anything resembling food would send her running to the toilet. "Mrs. Blaine, I think we should talk..." _Mary Poppins, give me strength._ "About Guardian Isaac."

It was like someone had trampled all the flowers in her garden. Mrs. Blaine's entire face fell. Then her eyes went so wide June wasn't sure it was healthy. But the fear in them was. It meant she knew how badly she had messed up- that she wasn't completely lost in a haze of endorphins. She watched the girl struggle to sit up. "How did you find out?"

For the first time since she met her, June heard an edge of anger in Mrs. Blaine's voice. The first sign that she wasn't the perfect innocent little girl that everyone saw when they looked at her. June took in a calming breath. "I saw you. In the greenhouse." Somehow Mrs. Blaine got paler. "Have you…consummated…your relationship with him?" Her expression said yes, even as she shook her head no. June raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"You can't tell anyone. I don't want anything to happen to Isaac."

Noble. So fucking noble. And completely impossible if what June was thinking turned out to be true. Because a person can only hide a pregnancy for so long. Eventually babies show up. June moved to the bed and sat down. It was beyond forward. No other wife would tolerate such insubordination. But June didn't have time for that. She took a deep breath. "Do you think that maybe you could be pregnant?" _Okay, no one should look that pale and still be alive._

June watched as Mrs. Blaine pulled her covers over her head.

_Fuck._

* * *

Sneaking out of the house was easier than June thought it would be. Finding a black market pregnancy test was almost a walk in the park. But getting Alma to introduce her to her Mayday connections- that was nearly impossible. Especially since she had been trying to get June involved for over a month. She hadn't planned on asking. She had almost forgotten about Mayday with everything else going on. Escaping Gilead was never far from June's thoughts, but it was hard to imagine a group _trying_ to help people get out. And maybe it was the 'Aunt Lydia Effect', but June was too paranoid to trust these mysterious people's good intentions.

But when Alma led her to the back of the grocer's to trade for a pregnancy test, June knew. She wanted to meet these people. She wanted to figure out what they really stood for. And maybe they really would help her get out. Maybe they could really bring Gilead down. So the entire walk back to the Blaine's June had tried to convince Alma.

And she had tried the next day…and the next…and the next after that.

She had a feeling it was a test- to see how invested June really was. But finally Alma agreed. And June had no doubt it was just to shut her up. Either way she'd take what she could get. And right now that was a meeting with a few low level members of Mayday. They agreed to meet twenty minutes earlier for shopping the next day. They would go to the meet point for the group and then do their shopping after. And in theory it sounded like an easy enough plan. It wasn't. Because no one could trust anyone in Gilead. Because the Eyes were always watching. Because Sarah knew how long June- Ofnicholas- should be gone.

There were so many risks. So many ways the whole thing could go wrong. And they had all played in June's mind as she laid in her bed the night before. They had run like the credits of a movie during breakfast and while Sarah cleaned the house. Images of bodies on the wall flashed behind her eyes as she and Mrs. Blaine waited for the results of an illegal pregnancy test.

But she still went. After Mrs. Blaine read 'Negative', after Sarah reminded her to get walnuts- she went. It was a tense walk- a silent walk. Alma seemed so calm, so sure of her every step. June, on the other hand, was sure that she would trip and land on her face. She just knew that her nervousness was on display for any Eye to see. The whole walk just fucked with her head.

Finally they made it, though. And June was almost more bothered by that. Because when she walked in there were no familiar faces. The only Handmaids were her and Alma. Two Marthas she'd never seen before sat together along the back wall in a room off the butcher's freezer. A group of men- one wearing a delivery uniform- stood along another wall. And finally a Guardian- dressed in all black, gun and radio attached to his belt.

"Alma, good to see you," one of the Marthas said. But June had spent enough time around human females to recognize how unhappy the woman was to see either of them. The death glare that was trained on June might have tipped her off, too. "And is this the 'friend' you mentioned before?"

To her credit- and June's serious admiration- Alma didn't even blink at the tone. She ignored the Martha completely, turning to the Guardian instead. "She's good. Knows how to keep secrets. She's smart, and we need a local." June watched the man's face as he took in what Alma had said. "Besides, we can always remove the threat if it comes to that."

June whipped around to face Alma shock and anger definitely obvious on her face. But the Guardian spoke before she could curse this bitch out for practically threatening to kill her. "Fine. Trial run. No sensitive information until she's proven herself." June shot one more dirty look Alma's way before turning back to the room at large.

Then it was time for business. Introductions were made. She found out vaguely what each of the men did and how it helped the cause. The Marthas mostly kept quiet, but June knew that they were important- maybe even more then the men in the room. The Guardian- Rick- explained how their branch of Mayday worked and that their goal was to get as many children out first as they could before moving on to Handmaids.

It would be a slow process- a long con, for sure. But June could feel herself getting excited. She could feel the thing with feathers fluttering in her chest the more she listened. Finally the meeting ended. It had taken longer than she thought, but when she asked Alma explained that it was because a lot had happened since the bombing. It made sense. A lot _had_ changed since the bombing. Marthas and Handmaids were under even closer watch than before. It was even mandatory for passes to be pinned to their cloaks now instead of being kept in pockets.

No one wanted another incident like the Rachel and Bilhah Center.

She and Alma left first and made their way to the market to get the few things on their shopping lists. They didn't speak. They didn't look at each other. It was as if they were complete strangers- no secret meetings or underground resistance connecting them. Everything was like it always was.

But she still felt that flutter…the thing with feathers in her chest.

Hope.

* * *

Mrs. Blaine took her to the hospital the next day. It was the first time she had seen the Commander since the bombing seven days prior. He was sleeping- the drugs kept him under. But June didn't care. He looked…soft when he slept. Like nothing bad could happen to him. Which was obviously not true given the cuts and bruises on his face and neck, his arms and hands.

The first time they had gone, June had been more worried about Mrs. Blaine. She had been practically catatonic after Nick got out of surgery. It had taken both her and Sarah to get her dressed and presentable and to the hospital. And it was almost impossible for them to get her to go into his room. But for the five minutes that the doctors allowed her and Sarah to stay before sending them back home, June had gotten maybe one or two glimpses of the Commander.

The visit with Mrs. Blaine didn't last much longer for June. She was only in the room for maybe ten minutes before Mrs. Blaine asked her to step out. She had, of course, finding a seat in the small waiting room. She made herself sit still. She didn't fidget with her fingers or toy with her skirt like she wanted to. She behaved the way Aunt Lydia had taught her to- like a meek servant of God.

Another ten minutes passed before the door to Commander Blaine's room opened and his wife slipped out. June stood and fell into step beside her mistress. "Are you alright?" She hated herself for asking. She didn't really want to know the answer. But the words were out there now.

Mrs. Blaine turned her head slightly, just barely looking at June before turning away again. "I'm fine, thank you." But there was a shaky quality to her voice that said she wasn't fine at all. Of course June didn't _ask_. It would be impertinent to pry into Mrs. Blaine's personal feelings. _I'm pretty sure Aunt Lydia said something like that once, right?_

Okay, she didn't, but June was still going with it.

They reached the car and Mrs. Blaine asked for the divider to be raised. Which she never did. Ever. _Fuck._ They hadn't even pulled out of the parking lot before she turned to June and started. "Do you think God is punishing me? For my sins?" June tensed in her seat. This was not the conversation for her to be a part of. "I never wanted the Commander to be hurt. I never wanted anything bad to happen to him. But do you think God allowed it to teach me a lesson? Because I was ungrateful- because I broke my vows?"

June really shouldn't have been having this conversation. Because if God was punishing Eden by blowing up her husband, had he been punishing her for Luke by making her a Handmaid- a widow? She shook the thought away. "I don't think God works that way." Which…was true. Old Testament had been a bit crazy, but for the most part June thought God was pretty against pettiness and vindictiveness. It was people who always found a way to fuck things up. "I think God tries to protect us from ourselves, and we just…find ways to mess up anyway."

She watched Eden work through what she had just said. _Please let this be the end of this conversation._ The Commander's wife settled into her seat and looked out the window. The tension June had been trying to hide, slipped away.

Then it came right back.

"I love Guardian Isaac." Four words and June's peaceful ride was over once more. She nodded slowly. "I know I shouldn't, but… I always thought that God would want us to be happy. I thought that He would give me a husband who loved me and who I loved. That we would have a family and be an example to others of how God blesses when you're faithful to His will."

_This girl is so…naïve. _June tried to think of something to say. Something that wouldn't sound like the heresy it probably was. Finally she said, "I think God gives us choices. And what we do with those choices is up to us." She thought about this thing between her and the Commander. She thought about the choices that led her and Luke to that hotel the first time. How she doesn't regret either of those choices. "Sometimes we know what we're doing might not be right, but isn't it better to make the wrong choice for yourself than to make the right choice because there's no other option? It doesn't have to mean that God can't bless the mistake."

And she believed that. Because Luke- for as long as she had him- had been the best part of her life. And this thing with the Commander- no matter where it led to- it was keeping her sane. Keeping her human. Being with Luke had been worth it. And getting to know the Commander- the man Gilead didn't see- was worth the risks in her mind, too.

Eden was quiet for a long moment, then, "So, you think it's okay that I love Isaac?"

June felt a sad smile form as she said, "You have to grab love wherever you can find it, I think."

* * *

The Commander came home five days later. Almost two weeks after the bombing. June thought it was too soon. But she didn't get an opinion. Eden turned into a restless ball of worry. She hovered over the Commander like he was halfway in the grave and not on the way to a full recovery. It was exhausting and June was just _watching._

Luckily, Mrs. Blaine didn't hover at night. Night shift was Sarah's and after the first two nights, the Commander insisted- testily, according to Sarah- that she didn't need to stay with him. So she didn't. And somehow in June's brain that meant _she_ should go to his room at night. Dumb ideas were always her forte, apparently. So June ended up in the chair beside the Commander's bed each night. They would talk (_okay, flirt_) sometimes. When his meds didn't make him too tired they would play half-assed games of poker or Go Fish. It was nice. It felt like they didn't have to worry about anyone walking in and catching them. They still did, though- just less.

He held her hand for the first time during one of those nights. June wasn't even sure how it happened. One minute she had been kicking his ass in poker and the next his fingers were curled around hers. She would not admit to feeling butterflies in her stomach because #cliché. And she refused to consider the look in his eyes anything other than the effect of seriously strong drugs.

Except she had seen a hint of that intensity in his eyes before the bombing.

_Nope. Doesn't matter. Not going there._ Too late, she was already there. And she liked that look. She actively tried to do and say things to make that look show up. Like telling terrible, slightly sexually inappropriate jokes. Or, you know, tracing the veins in his hand with her fingers. Which was definitely breaking some rules. But no one was there to yell at her about it so…

She climbed onto the bed with him after he'd been back for almost a week. He could sit up more easily and he was on less medication. So she probably should have been distancing herself. But he had asked her to read to him for a little while. It was the first time he had ever asked her to do anything illegal. Everything else they had done- it was frowned upon, could get her in very real trouble, but not illegal.

He had caught himself immediately- backtracked so hard she almost felt sorry for him. But she had already grabbed the book. She _wanted_ to read. She _missed_ reading. So she had picked up the book from the bedside table and then crawled onto the bed to sit next to him. The book wasn't that interesting-she didn't even remember the title. But it was a book and she was reading it and that was all that mattered.

She fell asleep next to him two nights later. The day had been busy. Sarah was sick so her chores fell to June that day on top of June's usual work. But she didn't complain. And when she went to the Commander's room that night she felt highly energized. So falling asleep before she had finished one chapter of the book they were reading had not been the plan.

She hadn't expected him to let her sleep. And she hadn't expected to wake up with her leg thrown over his and her hand resting on his stomach. She hadn't planned on enjoying the feeling of his fingers gliding up and down her arm. But once she had, it was something she wanted to feel again on a primal level. She liked how low and rough his voice was when he was tired. She liked how safe she felt with him beside her. She liked it more than she should have. But she didn't stop going back every night.

And she was glad she didn't because then she wouldn't know what it was like to kiss him.

And that would be a tragedy.


	11. Chapter 7

One month. It had been one month since the Commander got back. One month of secret nights and stolen moments. One month of kisses that felt like too much and not enough. One month of telling her truth and being _June._ A month of watching a man go from Commander to Nick. One month of feelings that were so familiar and yet so different from anything she had felt before.

It was amazing and terrifying.

But things between June and Nick weren't all that had happened. She had gone to more Mayday meetings. She had helped smuggle letters out of the country to Canada. She had helped hide a little girl so that Mayday could get her to her dad in Montreal. And it felt amazing. The little flutters of hope she had felt after her first meeting were now beautifully violent waves that brought her peace even though things were constantly changing.

She was almost happy. She could almost believe that being here wasn't the worst thing possible. Almost. But moments like that didn't last long. She always remembered. When Eden called Nick 'Husband'. When she walked past the armed Guardians on street corners. When there were pictures instead of words on the things at the market. It all became glaringly obvious just how stifling this place was.

Then there was the news. Alma was pregnant. Praised be. It was like a wake-up call. It was a blow to June's equilibrium. Because if it could happen to Alma- fierce, no fucks given, Alma- then it could happen to her. The rose-tinted glasses she had been trying to hide behind were gone and the world was as stark as it had always been. Suddenly it felt like Mayday wasn't moving fast enough, doing enough, helping enough. It felt like the little things she did were a sandcastle against a hurricane. Destined for ruin.

She knew that Sarah had noticed something was wrong. And Nick had definitely noticed. He didn't talk as much during their nightly visits. And he read to her more than she read to him now. Even his touch had changed- from light and easy to constantly soothing. It made her feel so safe and so scared. Because she could lose it. She could come to rely on that touch and that man and then one day Aunt Lydia would show up and escort her out like it was nothing. Like _she_ was nothing.

She stood outside of his door, hand hovering over the knob. She wanted to go in. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to crawl into his bed and feel his arms around her. But she was too attached. She could feel herself becoming more and more invested in him and _them_. And she couldn't allow it. For both of them. She couldn't put herself through the pain of feeling more than she already did for the man behind that door.

She stepped back to go back to her room. She would explain tomorrow- in the kitchen. She would tell him that they had to stop. Because it was too dangerous. Not because of the wall or because of the rules. No it was too dangerous to her heart. _Don't you think it's a bit late for that, June?_ She shoved that thought away. It wasn't helping. She made her way to the stairs and started up. Then she heard it- his door opened. She turned around and there he was, shoulder leaning against the door frame. His eyes were dark and intense.

She could read his every thought in that moment.

She turned and left anyway.

* * *

She did tell him the next day. She told him that they couldn't meet in his room anymore. She told him that they had to stop whatever this thing was between them. She told him that there was no happy ending to this story- not in Gilead. And she was sure that it would have worked. She was sure that he would have agreed. If they weren't home alone. If they hadn't been in the hallway outside of his room. If she hadn't kissed him afterwards like a fucking idiot.

But for those reasons- and more that she didn't want to think about-it didn't work.

Instead she had found herself pressed up against the wall outside of his room. She felt his hands roaming her body and hers tangling in the curls she loved so fucking much. She ended up with kiss swollen lips and the taste of him on her tongue. And it was heaven. It was heaven and it would be the death of her. _Please be a figure of speech._

So instead of them taking a step back, instead of them distancing themselves, they were _closer_. And not just physically. Because after her heart rate had returned to something close to normal... After her skin wasn't buzzing with lust, they talked. And she told him everything- her thoughts and fears, why she was so sure this was a bad idea (because it was, it really, really was). She told him and he listened. And it hit her so hard she almost lost her breath.

_It's too late._

She already cared too much. She already felt too much. She already wanted him and needed him and missed him when she had to go back to her own room. The feelings she was trying to avoid…they were already there. And it was deeper than she thought. It had crept up on her during all of those kitchen chats and midnight poker games, between the chapters of his books and the sheets of his bed. It had taken over bit by bit until it was all she felt when she looked at him, heard him, _thought_ of him.

She really shouldn't be that surprised.

* * *

They had another Ceremony. June had tried to get out of it. Her head kept telling her it was still too soon for Nick to be so _active._ But the doctor had okayed it and Aunt Lydia had insisted and there was nothing else that June could say. Well, there _was_ more she could say. She could mention the way Nick still had trouble breathing some nights. Or she could mention the fact that he got tired more easily even though he never let anyone but her see it. She could _say_ plenty- it would just end with them both on the wall.

So instead she did her duty and made sure he knew- in no uncertain terms- that he was not to put any extra _effort _into the Ceremony. She could go a little longer without coming on his cock. Her nether regions could disagree all they wanted. Besides, she liked what he did with his hands in his bedroom just fine. And he hadn't been complaining over her bedside manner since the bombing either.

Of course, the next day kind of shot her good intentions to hell...

* * *

There was a trade delegation the next day. Ambassadors from Mexico would be there. Mayday would be getting a little boy out. Nick and Eden would be going to Commander Waterford's house for a special dinner. Then there was to be a formal gathering with all of the Commanders and Wives- one the Handmaids had to attend. It made June nervous. The idea that there would be strangers watching them, observing them like animals in a zoo.

Trying to ask for help would be pointless. It wasn't even a thought worth considering. Aunt Lydia would be watching all of them like a hawk. And June was sure the Wives would be keeping a close eye on their Handmaids as well. June wondered if they would ask the Handmaids questions- the delegates. She wondered what she would say if they did.

June walked into the house from her trip to the market. She had talked to Alma a little bit, about the little boy they were getting out. But about her baby mostly. She seemed…unconcerned. Like the baby would stay with her after it was born. June couldn't help thinking that it was a dangerous fantasy to indulge in. Still, she tried to keep her worry to herself.

Sarah wasn't in the kitchen when she stepped in. And a quick search of the house let June know that she was home alone. _Nice._ It was always easier when the house was empty. She could pretend that she was a Senior Editor and had decided to buy a nice little Colonial in the suburbs. She didn't get to enjoy her alternate reality for very long, though. The front door opening kind of ruined the effect.

But when she looked over the banister, she felt her fantasy rebuilding itself. Nick stood in the entryway taking off his black suit jacket. She watched the muscles in his back shift beneath his white dress shirt. There was just something about a well-dressed man that really worked for June. Or maybe it was _this_ well-dressed man. Either way she was enjoying the view.

He turned and his eyes immediately landed on her. She felt a smile tugging at her lips. She started down the steps when he nodded toward his office. She didn't think about how going there would just be adding to the list of unsanctioned things she had done. She was too busy thinking about how badly she wanted to kiss him.

He had her pressed against the door to the office as soon as she locked it. She was not complaining. At all. Her arms went around his neck and his grabbed onto her hips, lifting her up a little. The part of her brain not drowning in lust tried to tell her to stop- tried to remind her he was still hurt. She had never been good at listening to logic.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and she bit down on his bottom lip when his hips pressed into hers. She loved kissing him. She loved the way his mouth moved against hers. She loved the way their tongues fought for dominance while they kissed- loved that she usually won that battle. She loved the way he made these little sounds- almost sighs- the first time their lips touched. And she loved how they changed to small moans and breathless curses.

Nick pulled back and June bit back a whimper. He wrapped his arms around her more securely and pulled away from the door. Her thighs clamped around him on reflex even as her mind cleared enough to protest his actions. But he didn't listen. Instead he let his teeth bite down on the skin of her throat. She returned the favor and couldn't quite help her smirk when Nick faltered in his next step. "Sorry." The look he gave her said that he knew she wasn't. And he was right.

He got to the sofa on the other side of the room. Nick laid her down gently before settling on top of her. She wasn't going to let him stay that way, but for now she let him do what he wanted. His hips rested against hers. His arms were braced on either side of her head holding him just inches above her. They had been in this exact position dozens of times over the last month, but this time felt different. June slid her fingers into his curls and tugged. She watched the way his eyes got that much darker. Then she tilted her chin up a little and kissed him.

She knew there weren't going to stop themselves this time.

This kiss was darker and needier than the one against the door. Her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him into her. She needed him closer. She needed to feel him. Her hands left his hair and landed on his stomach, pulling the fabric of his shirt free. His hips jerked forward and she gasped even as her fingers worked to undo his buttons. She got as far as three undone before her hands slid underneath to warm skin.

She felt him shift a second before he lifted her into a sitting position, his lips never leaving hers. He settled back onto the sofa and pulled her into his lap. Then his hands were at the back of her dress. She only had a moment to worry about if this was a good idea before he unzipped her dress. And after that she didn't care about good or smart or right or wrong. All she cared about was the feeling of his hands- warm and calloused and perfect- dragging along her skin.

She needed air. She needed air, but she didn't want the kiss to stop. But she needed air. So she compromised. She pulled back slightly to take a breath. Then she started pressing kisses along his jaw and down his throat. She felt his breath hitch in his chest when her teeth scraped the tendon straining in his neck. His hands pulled her dress and the straps of her underclothes down her arms and she quickly slid her arms out.

She was grinding down on him, rubbing against his cock through their clothes. He grabbed her hips and guided her movements for a minute before his head dropped to her shoulder and she felt his teeth against her skin. Her arms wrapped around him holding him close. She felt it too, it was too good. But she didn't stop moving against him.

Finally he started bunching up the fabric of her skirt. His patience was running out and she could feel it- his desperation to feel her against him with nothing between them. It was suicide but she wanted it too. So bad. She slipped off of his lap and stumbled back as her feet hit the floor. His hands caught her by the hips to keep her from falling. Then she was shoving her dress and underclothes down and stepping out of them. She stood there, naked in front of him, and watched him take her in.

No one had ever looked at her that way before-not even Luke. Like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Like she was some Aphrodite come to life. Nick looked at her as if she was the answer to every question he had ever wanted the answer to. And like he wanted to fuck her into the next millennium. It was really fucking messing with her equilibrium.

She dropped to her knees in front of him, hands going to the button of his pants. She yanked it open and then slid the zipper down. Her hands grabbed the side of his pants and tugged, and Nick lifted his hips to make it easier for her. His underwear went next.

_Holy fuck. _

She blinked. She blinked again. Maybe it had just been awhile since she had _seen_ a fully erect penis. Maybe she was just too fucking caught up in this whirlwind of lust and need. Because right then, Nick's was the most beautiful cock she had ever seen. And obviously she had had him inside of her before. She knew how he would feel and what he could make her feel. But still…it was a nice image.

June climbed back onto Nick's lap, her knees on either side of him. He was so close to where she wanted him. It was like a new form of torture- being so close but not moving. She honestly didn't know why she was just hovering over him like this. _Right, he won't let me move._ His hands had found their way to her hips the second she was in reach and he was keeping her exactly where she was.

Not that she was complaining- not really. Because his mouth was making its way down her neck and across her collarbones. His hands slipped down a little to cup her ass and she tried to get him to let her go. He pulled her closer to him so that the head of his cock bumped against her clit and her nails sank into his shoulders in retaliation. "Nick…" she hissed, pleasure surging through her. Her head fell back as he bit her nipple.

"Yes, June?"

God, she loved when he called her by her name. It didn't happen often- too dangerous. But something about the way his voice sounded when he said it made her wet. Well, _more_ wet. "Stop playing with me," she whined as he kissed his way to her other breast. "Fuck me, Nick." His hips flexed and his hands gripped her tighter. Her hands were roaming aimlessly across his chest and shoulders, but she decided that it was his turn to be tormented.

She didn't work her way down, she didn't give him any warning- her hand went straight to his cock. The sound that come out of him was the hottest thing she had ever heard. Choked and low-pitched, almost pained. She loved it- wanted to make him do it again. So with his head thrown back while he tried to catch his breath, her fingers wrapped around him and she gave a sharp tug. Just one. Just to let him know how things were about to go.

She didn't go fast, but she wasn't gentle. She fell into a rhythm that had him thrusting into her hand. It only lasted for a minute or so before he pulled her hand away. She moved to grab him again, but he moved her so that he was lined up with her entrance and pushed in. One arm wrapped around her back to keep her steady and the other went to the nape of her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair.

"Like that?" he rasped. She nodded jerkily. _Like that, exactly like that._ He dropped a quick kiss onto her lips, then her nose, then her temple. All the while he thrust into her, sending heat swirling through her body. Her hand dropped to rest low on his stomach and he paused for a second- checking that she was okay. She took that moment to take control, setting the pace, making him move with her. "Better?"

"Yeah," she panted, her head dropping to his shoulder as he pulled her into his chest. It was fast- faster than any of the Ceremonies. And it was so, so _good._ The feel of his skin on her, his hand in her hair, the sounds he made- it was everything. Her hand in his hair gripped tighter and her breathing went tight and shaky. "Nick…Nick, please…_Nick…Oh, God, Nick!"_

His mouth covered hers as she came, catching the sound of her moaning his name. Both arms came up to wrap around his neck as she held him as close as she could. His rhythm faltered then ceased to exist as she clamped down around him and her teeth sank into his bottom lip. When he came she knew his hands would leave bruises. At least the thought came to her after her mind had cleared a little. But she felt him- every pulse, every twitch. It was almost enough to set her off again.

He fell back against the back of the sofa and June could feel him fighting to catch his breath. She felt their hearts pounding against each other and their bodies shaking as they came down. His hands eased their hold on her and his fingers started to trail up and down her spine. "June? You okay?" She nodded weakly into the curve of his neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and she smiled. He took a deep breath and let it out as a heavy sigh. "We should go get cleaned up…"

"I know."

Her voice sounded small to her. And it must have sounded that way to Nick, too, because he held her a little tighter. Then his hands came up to her shoulders and pulled her away from him. He cupped her cheeks forcing her to look at him. "It's okay," he said softly. "June, it's okay." She nodded her head, lifting up so he slid out of her. She needed to come back to reality.

She slid off of his lap and onto the seat next to him. She scooped her clothes up from the floor, not excited about putting them back on. Not excited about leaving this room- this moment. Not wanting to be turned back into Ofnicholas, the Handmaid. But she did it. Panties, bra, undershorts, cami, and the fucking red dress- she put it all back on. When she turned back, Nick had pulled his clothes back on, too. His shirt was still unbuttoned though. She trailed a finger along his abs before pulling away.

She didn't ask to stay and he didn't tell her not to go.

So she went.

* * *

A Martha knocked on the back door. It was pure luck that Sarah was still out because when June opened the door she was face to face with Heather. She was one of the Martha's from Mayday. And she didn't like June. Which made the fact that she was there even more of a big deal.

"Blessed day, Heather."

The other woman didn't even blink as she brushed past June and into the kitchen. She glanced around the kitchen before walking towards the hall and checking to make sure no one was listening. June just watched. Satisfied she came back to where June stood. "The Trade Delegation is tomorrow. I know Handmaid's are required for the dinner. Make sure that you leave the greenhouse door unlocked when you leave." Then just like that she turned to leave.

June's hand snaked out and grabbed the Martha's arm. "Wait, why?" She may not be high up, but she deserved to know if something was going to happen at her house. Heather didn't seem to agree, since she kept her mouth shut. June's grip tightened. "_Heather_. What is happening in the greenhouse?"

The Martha slapped June's hand away. "Just because Rick and Alma trust you, doesn't mean I do. You don't need to know. If something goes wrong things are in place to keep your house protected. Now stop asking questions and do as you're told." Then she walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

June felt her heart pounding- not in fear though. No, she was pissed. Whatever was going on could get her and the Blaines in serious trouble. June fisted the side of her skirt until her hand cramped. Then she made her way out of the kitchen. She stopped short in the hall. Nick stood outside his office. She didn't know if he had heard Heather. She didn't care, either. Changing course she walked over to him and kissed him- hard.

She pulled back before he had a chance to kiss her back. But that was okay. She had just needed to calm down. She had needed a reminder that not everything in Gilead had to be a shit-storm of stress all the time. June turned and walked back down the hall and up the stairs to her room. She'd leave the greenhouse unlocked. She'd followed Mayday's orders and play by Heather's rules.

For now…

* * *

She stayed in her room all day the next day. She had woken up feeling like shit. Of course that could have been because of how things had gone after her and Nick's…afternoon. Forced silence had never felt so deafening. But, honestly, this felt like more than just normal- was there such a thing in Gilead?-stress. It felt like her body hated her and wanted to kill her by purging itself of any and all foods she may have ingested. Or beverages. Beverages could go too, apparently.

So yeah, she stayed in her room and hid under the covers. Childish? Perhaps. But it kept her from spewing vomitus into the toilet, so… win. It also gave her an excuse not to see Nick or Eden or Sarah or anyone else who might show up for reasons unknown. At least until Aunt Lydia had shown up. Then there was no more hiding.

She had been dragged- quite roughly- from her bed and into the bathroom. Then Aunt Lydia, dear Aunt Lydia had proceeded to clean every inch of June's body as if it were Ceremony night. _No, Aunt Lydia, you're a few days late for that._ Anyway, it was not an experience that made June want to puke_ less. _But she had no choice and no one cared about her opinion, so she didn't give it.

She still managed to sneak to the garden, though.

Then she had followed orders and behaved like a proper lady should. She sat quietly in the van with the other Handmaids. She walked in an orderly fashion into the reception hall the Delegation dinner was being held in. She didn't stab anyone with her fork when the children were ushered in and walked past their mothers to the Commanders and their Wives. How dare they? How dare they parade these women's children in front of them and act as if they haven't kidnapped them?

She made one mistake and that was to look at Nick.

His eyes had already been on her and she had seen her disgust mirrored back at her for a moment- just one moment. Then it had turned to fear. And she knew that he was thinking about what they had done and what it could mean and how things would have to end. She had dropped her eyes to her plate and not looked away from it the rest of the evening.

She wasn't sure how she ended up separated from the other girls. It should be hard to miss the giant cloud of red in a room full of ivory and blue. But she managed, somehow. She took the moment of solitude to take a breath and repair the mask she had to wear that night. She turned to go try and find her way back to the front of the building when she heard footsteps.

A gentleman she hadn't seen before came around the corner. He stopped short when he saw her. She wasn't surprised- it probably was a shock to see one of Gilead's infamous Handmaids up close. She tried not to roll her eyes at the thought. But then he seemed to collect himself. He stepped forward and June knew it was time to go- she wasn't trying to get in any trouble tonight.

"Mrs. Bankole?"

It was her turn to freeze. She hadn't heard that name in years- not from someone that wasn't her. She watched as the man came closer. And though her mind was telling her to run- to get back to Aunt Lydia or Nick- she stood still. She waited. Because this man knew her name in a place where it was forbidden.

"I'm not going to hurt you. And I don't have much time." She nodded, unable to do anything else. "I can get a message to your husband," he said fumbling in the pocket of his suit jacket for a moment before pulling out a tablet and pen. She stared at it blankly for a minute. It was like a snake, coiled and ready to strike at the slightest movement. And she would be the one to bleed. She could already feel its venom in her veins.

"My husband is dead. He was shot while we were trying to escape."

But the man- this man who knew her name- was shaking his head. "No, Luke Bankole, African American, married to June Osborne, no children?" She nodded. Because that was correct. The only thing he was wrong about was that Luke was alive. "He was shot, yes. But he made it out. He got help. He was in Canada as of one week ago. I have a friend at the US Embassy there."

She stared at this man in front of her. This man who could be playing a horribly cruel joke. This man who could be lying- trying to make her do something illegal. He could be an Eye. Or… Or he could be telling the truth. And if he was telling the truth, that meant…

_Luke is alive?_

* * *

She let the man take her note. She almost wished she hadn't. Because now she was left to wonder. She was left to imagine. Did he get it out? Would Luke remember that joke? Had it all _been_ a joke? Would he send something back? _Could_ he send something back? It all circled around in her brain. She stressed and worried and fantasized and freaked out.

It was too much and not enough and she didn't know how to handle the limbo she found herself in.

She thought about Luke, safe in Canada. She thought about Luke shot and bleeding and scared. She thought about the two years she had been here- how she hadn't heard anything about him in that time. She thought about how much better his life had to be than the one she had been living. No ritual rapes. No beatings. No Salvagings. It sounded like a dream to her. The thought that he could read anything he wanted. The idea that he could wear whatever clothes caught his eye. There was no punishment for him, no wall for him. Just freedom. Freedom that she didn't have. Freedom he lived while she was stuck in this place.

But as quickly as those thoughts came, they were gone. Replaced by other, more petty, thoughts. Like had he found someone else? Had he forgotten her- assumed she was dead? She had always thought she'd be one of those women who wanted her significant other to be happy if anything happened to her. She thought she'd want him to move on. But now she wasn't sure. Now it felt like he had forgotten her- left her behind while he fucked himself stupid.

And she knew that wasn't Luke's thing. She knew he was more loyal than that- that he loved her more than that. But the thought didn't go away. Instead images of Annie crept in. Memories of the way he had treated her while they were separated- before the divorce was final. And she wondered… Because he had moved on pretty easily with her even after so many years of being married to Annie. Could he do that again? If his wife was lost in Gilead? If he thought there was no hope of her getting out?

Then she felt like a hypocrite. Because hadn't she just fucked Nick in his office the night before she found out her husband was alive? Hadn't she realized that she felt more for this Commander than she should be feeling for anyone? _But Luke was dead._ Yeah, that thought didn't bring her much comfort. In fact it made her feel worse. Because now it felt like she gave up on him too soon. Like she hadn't fought for him- even if it was just in her mind.

But there was still Nick. And the things she felt for Nick. They were still there lighting her up inside. Making her want to be closer to him any time he walked into a room. She still wanted to trace the contours of his face and memorize the lines of his body. She still wanted to know him. And that was cheating on Luke, right? Or was she cheating on Nick now?

She didn't know. She wasn't sure how this worked. No one had told her the rules for situations like this. All she knew was that she wanted Nick. She just wanted Luke, too. All she knew was that she loved the feel of Nick's skin on hers. She just missed the feel of Luke's touch, too. And she couldn't have both. She couldn't hold onto one and not let go of the other. She knew that- her brain screamed it at her in the midst of all the confusion going on in her heart.

_Just take it one thing at a time, June. One thing at a time._

* * *

There were guests when she went downstairs the next morning. Mrs. Blaine was in the sitting room and Nick and another man were there with her. Nick never went into Eden's sitting room except on Ceremony nights. It was the one room in the entire house that June had never seen him willingly step foot in. But he was there now. He stood stiffly by the window as Eden kept the man in the chair opposite her engaged in conversation.

June had never seen Eden as a hostess. She hadn't had any visitors since June had been posted. Instead Eden always went to visit other people. So June was a little surprised by how at ease she seemed, when she was usually nervous around other people. June stood outside of the door and watched as Eden poured what looked like tea for the man and passed him a small plate of cookies.

"Thank you, Mrs. Blaine," the man said. He had an accent, European probably. His voice wasn't too deep- it had a rasp to it. But just that short sentence made June feel uneasy. Something about his tone or the way he lingered over Eden's name. It was… off.

Nick must have noticed too, because June watched the way he moved to stand behind Eden's seat. It was obviously protective- like a big brother watching the asshole player flirt with his little sister. If Eden noticed she didn't let it show. _She's a better liar than anyone gives her credit for._ As if she had heard the thought Eden looked up and saw her. June tried to look like she hadn't been spying, but that was basically impossible.

Luckily Eden didn't invite her in- or acknowledge her at all really. She turned her attention back to the man sitting next to her. Nick cleared his throat to draw the man's focus away from Eden. "Commander Waterford, how can we help you?" She recognized that name from Eden. This was Nick's old boss- the man who forced him to marry a teenager as a punishment. Nick never mentioned him by name but he had told her about working for him. She already knew that his being there couldn't be a good thing.

Waterford sat straighter in his seat and gracefully set his cup of tea on the table. The fluidity of his movements made her think of a panther- beautiful and graceful… until it tore your throat out. "I wanted to speak to you about a private matter." She wondered if that meant he wanted Eden to leave. But after a slight pause he continued. "I would like to have your Handmaid."

The world stopped. June watched as Nick tensed, his hand tightening on the back of Eden's seat. She saw the way that Eden's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't be serious. That wasn't even allowed was it? Were they allowed to request certain Handmaids- trade them amongst themselves like baseball cards? She stared at the back of Waterford's head. There was no way she would go with him. There was no way Nick would let her go with him. Not after what he had seen in the Waterford house- not after the first Offred.

_But is it really his decision?_ Waterford had been the one to promote him. What if he decided to use that against Nick- force him to give her up? She was snapped out of her thoughts by Eden's shy voice. "I thought that Mrs. Waterford had already selected a new Handmaid for your household." June could have hugged that girl. She took a breath and let it out. Everything would be fine. The Waterford's already had a Handmaid picked out. And it was the Wife who chose anyway- at least, she had most of the final say.

Waterford nodded slowly. "Yes, that was true. But Mrs. Waterford and I have discussed it. We decided to do things a little differently this time. She has agreed to allow me to pick this new Handmaid." Eden looked at Nick, but he kept his eyes on Waterford. The blank expression on his face was one June was used to but she could feel an undercurrent of emotion coming from him- something almost dark, to match the sinister energy that Waterford was putting out. "Is there a reason why you don't wish to release her to me, Commander Blaine?"

There was no right answer to that question. Nick knew it and Waterford knew it. But Eden answered, swooping in to save the day without even knowing it. "It's not that, Commander. But we just had a Ceremony a few nights ago. We don't know if Ofnicholas is with child or not yet." Nick's eyes darted to June's and she knew he was thinking about the condoms he had worn for every Ceremony.

_He didn't wear one in his study._

It was a saving grace and a nightmare all in one. If she was pregnant then Waterford couldn't take her. But if she was pregnant she would have to give up her baby. And Waterford could take her after the baby was born. No matter what it was only a temporary solution. June felt her hands beginning to shake. She felt nausea roiling through her.

"Of course we would wait until you are sure she's not with child. Just so you know that we are interested." Eden nodded and took a sip of her tea. And suddenly it was all too much. Luke being alive. Her feelings for Nick. Eden's secret. Mayday. And now Waterford wanted her for himself. Practically blackmailing Nick into giving her to him. She couldn't handle it.

She turned and ran up the stairs, not bothering to try to be quiet. She rushed into her room and into the bathroom just barely getting the toilet seat up before she was throwing up into the bowl. Her body shook as she emptied her stomach. Her skin went clammy and exhaustion took over the longer she heaved. Until finally there was nothing left. She fell onto the floor and let her head fall back against the wall.

She had to get out of this place.


	12. Ashamed

She had promised she wouldn't do this. It was adultery. It was a sin against God. She had _promised_. But…she liked it. She liked _him._ She liked the way he smiled at her. He didn't smile very much. She liked the way he touched her. It was always so gentle. She liked his laugh and his hair and his voice and his mind.

She loved him.

She knew it was a sin. She knew it was illegal. But they were careful. They were always careful. They didn't hide in the greenhouse anymore- not since Ofnicholas found out. No, now they would go out to the old soccer field outside of town. Isaac would park and she would get in the front seat with him. Then they would talk. They would tell each other the secrets no one else knew.

They kissed too. She liked that. More than she should. But she couldn't stop. It felt good to be with him. It felt nice to know someone cared about her the same way she cared about them. And she liked how it felt when he held her close. Or when his fingers ran through her hair. She liked how he tasted like cinnamon gum.

She didn't know how her husband tasted. She didn't know what his hands felt like. But she knew his silence. She knew the stiff line of his shoulders. She knew he didn't love her. But that was okay. She didn't mind as much now. Because Isaac's silence was different. And his shoulders relaxed when they were together. And his hands were warm and heavy on her skin. She knew him and she liked knowing him.

And he loved her.

So she let him undress her in the backseat of her husband's car. She let her fingers ease his jacket off of his shoulders. She had felt his touch and he had felt hers. Touch was nice. It made her feel dizzy and happy and light. But now she was ready to see. She was ready to be seen. By the man she loved. By the man who loved her.

_See no evil._

She remembered that- a little monkey with its eyes covered. But she wasn't a toy and this sight wasn't evil. It couldn't be. This had to be something good. And she thought that maybe Isaac felt the same way. He looked at her like he did. So she didn't cover her eyes. She didn't cover herself. She looked and was looked upon.

_And the man and woman were both naked and they were not ashamed._


	13. Chapter 8

June spent the next week trying to think of ways to get out of Gilead. She talked to her contacts inside of Mayday. She ran escape routes with Alma during their daily walks. She even got a black market pregnancy test. She planned on asking Alma to pee on it so that she'd have a little more time to get things in order. June went over every possible way that things could fall apart and tried to prevent them from happening. And she had a little time- a few weeks. If she could get the help she needed, running didn't seem as impossible as it had before.

But any hopes or plans she might have been fostering died the day the Eyes showed up at the front door. June's heart had stopped in her chest when they asked for Commander Blaine. It was her worst nightmare come to life. They had figured it out. They knew she and Nick were having a relationship outside of legal bounds. They were going to take her away- send her to the Colonies. They would put him on the wall- the driver who thought he could be Commander.

Sarah led the men to Nick's office. June tried to stay out of sight. She felt like a child playing hide and seek- if she closed her eyes they couldn't see her. But the kitchen door burst open and two sets of footsteps rushed into the house. June watched as Mrs. Blaine and Guardian Isaac hurried into the hallway and down to Nick's closed office door. Eden was shaking- violently. And Guardian Isaac looked as if his life was ending.

_No. Please, God, not this._

The door to the office swung open and the Eyes stepped out and surrounded Isaac. Nick stood in the door way and pulled Eden to his side. That protective side of him was on full display as he wrapped an arm around Eden's tiny waist. "Guardian Isaac, the Eyes have brought me disturbing news. Is there anything you have to say for yourself?"

June watched as Eden flinched against Nick's side. His voice was so hard- so cold. She had never heard it before and obviously Eden hadn't either. But Guardian Isaac, a little paler now, held his head up. June watched a silent conversation take place between the two men. It left her feeling broken for some reason- like she was watching something terrible and couldn't stop it.

"Commander Blaine, I have sinned against God and my country. I have dishonored you and for that I am truly sorry." Nick didn't respond. Isaac took a deep breath and shifted nervously on his feet. "I coerced Mrs. Blaine into doing what I wanted." Eden jerked forward, but Nick held her back. "She tried to resist but I threatened to hurt the Martha if she didn't comply." The Eyes were watching Isaac but June saw the way Eden was shaking her head slightly, trying to get Isaac to stop talking. But he didn't. "And I told her that I would hurt her if she went to anyone about it."

That was June's cue. She rushed over and quickly took Eden's hands. A brief glance at Nick told him what she was doing and he let her go. "Mrs. Blaine, why don't we go to the sitting room and get you some tea." She tried to make it look easy, but June had to practically drag Eden away from Nick's office. Tears were streaming down her face by the time June got her into the kitchen and then out to the greenhouse.

"He lied." June heard the shock and fear in Eden's voice- the confusion and anger, too. "He lied to them. He _lied_. He never coerced me." She sounded frantic, turning panicked eyes on June. She was shaking her head so hard it looked painful. "He never did anything I didn't want him to do. Why would he say those things?" she cried.

June grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug. There was nothing else she could do to make this better. There was nothing that would change what would happen now that Isaac had 'confessed'. "I know he didn't. I know. And the Commander knows, too." She said gently. June pulled back and wiped the tears from Eden's cheeks. "But if he didn't say those things you both would go to the wall. Do you understand?" Eden nodded but the panic hadn't dimmed and her eyes kept darting back towards the house. "He wants to protect you. Let him protect you."

Eden fell into June's arms and June held her as tight as she could. They rocked slowly as Eden sobbed into June's dress. That was how Sarah found them. And later, it was how Nick found them. June met his eyes over the top of Eden's head. She knew what it meant that he was there- Isaac was already dead. She saw her sadness reflected back at her. She saw his pain and guilt and knew he saw hers too. This wasn't how young love should end. Nick stepped closer and put his hand on Eden's shoulder, pulling her from June and into his arms.

"He wanted to protect me," the words barely more than a whisper.

Nick held his wife tighter.

This wasn't how it should end.

* * *

Someone woke her up in the middle of the night. She didn't know who it was or how they got in. But they were dressed like a Martha and they knew the safe-word that the Mayday operatives in June's group had been told to use in emergencies. So June pushed aside the questions and got dressed.

They snuck down the stairs of the Blaine house and crept out the back door. It took a moment but June saw Nick standing in the greenhouse watching as she and this 'Martha' cut across the garden. Her footsteps slowed as she passed by him and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. _He knows what this is. _Was Nick part of the resistance? Had he helped other people before?

The 'Martha' snapped her fingers and June upped her pace. She felt Nick's gaze on her until she ducked under a low hanging tree branch and out of sight. Another Martha was waiting and the three women hurried across the neighbor's backyard. Then they ducked into an alley between two properties and found a black car waiting.

June stalled for a moment when she saw the car. It belonged to a Commander. She felt the fear she had been suppressing pushing through the adrenaline. "What are you waiting for? Get in the car," the Martha who had woken her up hissed. June took a tentative step forward, then another, before she finally rushed to the parked car. The trunk opened as she got close and the two Marthas moved to lift the cover that hid the spare tire. They nodded for her to climb in, so she said a quick prayer and crawled into the space.

The cover quickly lowered back into place and June was trapped in darkness. The car came to life as the trunk closed above her. Suddenly doubts flooded June's mind. She had snuck out of her Commander's house. She was trapped in the back of a car being driven by someone she didn't know. And she had no clue where she was going. She didn't know if she could trust these people. Nick would never put her in danger, but if he didn't know either- if he was desperate to get her out of Gilead…

Anxiety took over and made it hard to breathe. The air in the tire-well felt too close, to stuffy. Every breath she took made the space shrink a little more. Her legs were cramped and her back was twisted oddly, her arms were in an uncomfortable position. All of it just made her feel more panicked. Her breathing turned choppy and short, sweat beaded on her forehead and along her upper lip.

She needed to get out. She needed to get out right now. She couldn't be stuck there. She was dying. She felt like she was dying. Oh god she was dying in the trunk of this car. White spots swam in her vision and nausea roiled through her. She didn't even know if she was still breathing, her lungs felt so tight. Too tight for any oxygen to possibly get into them. The white spots grew, brighter and wider and a ringing filled her ears until…

Silence.

Black.

Nothing.

* * *

She came to when the car jerked to a stop. For a paralyzing moment she didn't know where she was. She didn't know how she had gotten to this small dark place or who had put her there. Then she remembered. The Martha waking her up. Nick standing in the greenhouse. The car in the alley. Her panic attack. She wasn't even embarrassed by that part. Anyone would have felt the same way in her shoes.

June heard the car door open and close, then the crunch of shoes on gravel. She braced herself for whatever might happen next. She didn't have anything she could use as a weapon and her muscles were screaming from being in such a cramped position for so long, but June would still go down swinging if she had to. The key turned in the truck and she took a deep breath.

Then she saw Rick- the Guardian in her group. She felt the air leave her lungs in a rush. For a second she was actually dizzy with relief. Rick held out his hand and she grabbed onto it, using him to leverage herself out of the tire-well. She was a little shaky on her feet for a second or two, but she tried not to let it show.

"We don't have much time," Rick said hurriedly. "We've gotta move." Then he was running towards a cornfield, tugging her along behind him. June tried to keep up. She didn't know what type of rescue this was, but she didn't want to miss it. She thought of Waterford coming for her and almost threw up as she ran. She couldn't let that happen. Then she thought about what would happen to Nick if she got caught. He would be investigated; the Eyes might find out that he was part of the resistance. _He had to be part of it, right?_

No, she couldn't fall behind. Too much was at stake for her to miss this chance. Rick pulled her to the left without warning and she stumbled, twisting her ankle sharply. She bit her tongue to keep in her scream, but her hand was definitely squeezing Rick's more tightly than it had been. He turned to check on her and she pointed towards her ankle even as she kept running.

_This hurts like a motherfucker. The one time I _don't_ need this to happen._

"You okay?" She was in too much pain to roll her eyes, but she knew she was sending him a glare that showed exactly how stupid she thought that question was. Rick slowed their pace a little. It didn't help the pain shooting through June's leg, but it would keep her from tripping as much. Maybe. Rick turned back in the direction they were running. "We're almost there. Just a few more yards."

It didn't sound as reassuring as he thought it did, but June was too focused on not falling or tripping or crying out in pain with every step, that she barely registered his words anyway. And after a few more excruciating moments of running they reached the field. Once they were hidden by the corn, Rick slowed down. June let out a sigh as she took some weight off of her ankle.

Eventually they stepped into a round clearing with an improvised runway leading from it in the middle of the field. There was a small plane idling in the center of the clearing and June felt her heart start racing the longer she looked at it. This was how she got out of here. This was her ride to freedom. Rick helped her hop to the plane and get settled inside. There wasn't much room and the little room there was mostly held crates and other boxes. She didn't care what was being taken out of Gilead, as long as she went with it

"Stay down. Stay quiet. When you land you'll be in Canada. Plant a Maple tree for me." June smiled and nodded. She'd plant Rick as many fucking trees as he wanted. He closed the door and ran back to the edge of the clearing, stepping back into the corn stalks. The plane started moving and June tried not to get too excited. She would celebrate when they were in the air- too high up for anyone to stop them.

The plane bumped along the runway, going faster by the minute. Soon June felt the drop in her stomach that meant the plane was no longer touching the ground. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she bit it back. _Not yet. Don't jinx it, June._ But it was already too late. She was practically giddy by that point, nearly vibrating with happiness.

Something hit the plane. June sat up and wiggled over to the closest window. She peaked out and saw vans chasing the plane down the runway. Bullets started hitting the sides of the plane in rapid succession. She turned towards the front of the plane to watch the pilot. He was trying to make the plane go faster- trying to get them in the air properly. But a bullet came through his window and he jumped. They lost speed and he didn't have a chance to gain it back.

The plane hit the ground hard, throwing June into the window sharply. More vans came out of the cornfield, heading straight for the plane. Their headlights were blinding and June felt tears sting her eyes the closer they got. Three vans rolled to a stop, blocking the runway. The pilot didn't have enough speed or space to get off the ground. And the hail of bullets kept coming. The window beside June shattered and she screamed. She dropped to her stomach in the small space. Her mind was racing but she had no clue how she would get out of this.

Then the pilot's head snapped back against the seat and June saw a spray of red hit the wall of the cockpit. The plane slowed down and she tried to get the image of the dead pilot out of her head. The plane stopped as her breathing turned into hiccups and the tears started. The cargo door flew open and hands reached in grabbing at her dress, pulling at her legs.

She kicked and clawed and punched whatever she could reach. She screamed as hands dragged her out of the plane and into the back of a black van. It was like the first time she tried to get away. When she lost Luke. She was dropped onto the hard floor of a van and she scrambled to sit up- to get out before the door closed. But she was too late. Already the door was closed and the van was speeding away from the field.

June stared through the back window at the plane she had just been on. She watched as it got smaller and smaller. Wild, dark, impotent rage took over her. She screamed at the motionless plane. She pounded her fists against the window. Ragged sobs tore from her chest as she kicked at the door. "God _DAMN IT!_ _God damn it!_ Fuck! _Fuck! FUCK!"_

Tears blinded her and her throat was sore from screaming but she couldn't stop. She hated this place. She hated this fucking country. She hated the Eyes and the Commanders and the fucking Wives and Aunt Lydia and the fucking dirt and the fucking air that made her feel like she was suffocating and the grass that was too damn perfect. She hated everything, everything, _everything._

She fell back onto the floor, ankle throbbing and chest heaving. She wiped angrily at the tears on her face. And it was only after her breathing had calmed down- only after she could see more than watery shapes- that she realized. She wasn't alone. She jerked her head to the left and saw the teal fabric of a Wife's dress. June let out a shuddery sigh and looked up. Mrs. Waterford looked back at her.

"If you're finished, Ofnicholas, perhaps we can enjoy the rest of the trip in silence? I didn't come on this 'rescue' to listen to you scream profanities."

"Go fuck yourself."

* * *

The van pulled up to the Blaine's house just as the sky began to lighten.

June had moved to a seat across from Mrs. Waterford at some point during the ride and hadn't moved since. She hadn't spoken or even lifted her head to look around. There was no point. Wherever she ended up would be out of her control anyway. So the two women sat in stifling silence. June kept going back to that field. The dead pilot. Imagining Rick's body bleeding out on the ground. Two more minutes and they could have made it. Two minutes and she would have been free. That pilot would still be alive.

Two fucking minutes.

The door of the van opened and an Eye held his hand out to help Mrs. Waterford out. She moved with a lot more grace than should be possible in the van. Once she was safely on the ground the man turned to June. He grabbed her hands and pulled them to him, slapping handcuffs onto her wrists. _Like there's anywhere for me to run to now._ She didn't even struggle when he pulled her roughly from the van. Her ankle hurt like a bitch, though.

June looked up at the front of the Blaine's house. This was so different from the first time she had been escorted here. That had been a sunny day. Bright and cheery to match Gilead's façade. Now shadows stretched out like fingers- trying to drag her back to her cell. Much more in line with Gilead's true aesthetic. A shove to her shoulder had June moving- painfully- her feet carrying her unsteadily up the steps to the veranda.

The door swung open before the Guardian at the door had a chance to knock. Sarah's eyes were full of worry and June felt warmth build in her chest as the Martha frantically checked her for injuries with her eyes. Eden stepped around Sarah and grabbed June's hands, gently pulling her into the house. She was pretty sure the Eyes weren't happy about it, but June wasn't really worried about their feelings at the moment. Eden glared at the handcuffs for a long moment before turning to scowl at the men still standing on the porch.

"Take these off."

"Ma'am, they're for your safety as well as the Handmaids."

But Eden was already shaking her head. June had never seen her look so fierce. It was adorable, really. Like watching an angry kitten. "She's not going to hurt anyone in this house. So you can take those off of her. Now." June glanced between the Eye who had cuffed her and Eden. It was an interesting standoff. In Gilead men held all the power, but in the home the Wives ran things. And now the two powers were clashing.

The Eye let out a heavy sigh and pulled out a key. Eden wrapped June in a hug the moment the cuffs were off. For a moment June was sure she would cry. It was so obvious how much Eden cared. And June knew if the roles were reversed she'd be feeling the same way. So she hugged the girl back and sent a nod to Sarah over Eden's shoulder.

"It's so good to see how close you all are. God has blessed that you could be able to trust your Handmaid, Mrs. Blaine." Mrs. Waterford's voice was as sweet as syrup and it made something stick in June's throat. Eden turned- wide eyed- to face Mrs. Waterford. Suddenly the timid girl was back and seeing the transformation made anger flare up in June's gut. "Don't you agree, Eden?" And of course Mrs. Blaine nodded. There was nothing else she could do.

Mrs. Waterford nodded to the men and they filed out to the vans one by one. It was odd to see so much power from a woman. It was odd to feel like women having power was odd. Mrs. Waterford came forward and placed a hand on June's stomach. Sarah took a step closer, one that Mrs. Waterford definitely noticed. "When will you know if you're with child Ofnicholas?" The amount of menace that lurked behind those words sent chills along June's nerves.

"Soon," she replied coolly, trying to hide the fear and anger she was feeling. "But I have a good feeling." She didn't- not really. She thought of the test hidden in her mattress. It was too soon since Nick's office for the test to be accurate. But it didn't matter. She would do anything and say anything to keep from having to go to this woman's house. She wasn't sure what she would do if they came for her, but she knew she wouldn't survive the Waterford house.

Mrs. Waterford's nails dug into June's stomach slightly.

"Praised be."

* * *

Alma told her how Mrs. Waterford found out.

Her Martha heard something from someone. June had a feeling she knew who that someone was. The Martha told Mrs. Waterford. Like a good citizen of Gilead should. Commander Waterford sent out a retrieval team. Because of course he did. "She asked to go, personally. Said she wanted to meet the Handmaid." But June could see that Alma was holding something back. She waited. "Waterford _knew_ it was you- knew that it was Commander Blaine's Handmaid." _Oh._ But Alma kept talking. _"_Why would they care about which Handmaid it was? It doesn't make sense."

But it did- to June. It made sense if Commander Waterford picked her personally to be his next Handmaid. It made sense if Mrs. Waterford was trying to gauge her 'competition'. It made sense if you knew the history between the Waterfords and the Blaines. And June did know. From Mrs. Blaine and from Nick. She knew that even though the men ran Gilead, Serena Waterford held more power than some Commanders.

June didn't talk the rest of the trip back from the market.

* * *

_Stop panicking, June_

She went to her room.

_It's too soon._

She pulled the box from her mattress.

_It's too early to tell, June._

She went to the bathroom.

_This is a waste of a test._

She waited.

_This is so stupid._

It was positive.

_Holy shit._


	14. Caught

She got caught.

She got caught and he wasn't there. His hands were shaking. His mind was showing him every possible way that she could be hurt, bleeding, _dying_. And he couldn't do anything. He couldn't ask the questions he wanted to ask. He couldn't go to her. He couldn't leave this fucking room.

He had been called in two hours after she left. He didn't even ask why- he knew. And as soon as he walked through the doors and saw Waterford's smug face it was confirmed. June wasn't getting out of Gilead. Not tonight. Then it was rounds of questions between reports from the field.

That was when he realized what had happened. She hadn't simply been caught. She had been set up. The Eyes were reporting before June even got to the meet point. So he had to sit there and listen as they followed her car. He had to listen to them chase down her plane. He had to listen to the sound of machine guns firing, not knowing if one of those bullets had hit her.

It was a special brand of torture. And he couldn't let it show. He had to seem surprised by the 'betrayal'. He had to look unconcerned with the idea that June- _Ofnicholas_\- might be injured. Because to do anything else would only make it all worse. Not for him- he didn't care about him. But for June. And he couldn't allow that. She had to be safe.

_No one is safe in Gilead._

"Commander Blaine, it seems to me- to _us_\- that your house is not in order." Waterford's voice dragged his attention from the sound of bullets hitting metal. The man's smile was more of a sneer as he glanced at the other Commanders in the room. "First that business with your wife, and now a runaway Handmaid?"

He stayed quiet. There was nothing to say. Waterford would twist it all anyway. "Commander Blaine, I have to say, I'm disappointed." He sat up straighter. Commander Waterford he could handle. Commander Johnson was different. "I was told that you could handle the responsibility of being a Commander. But in less than 24 hours I'm seeing something else."

The sound of a woman screaming saved him from having to come up with a response. He wished it hadn't. Suddenly it was a struggle to keep his expression blank. He would take being questioned by Commanders all day if it meant he never heard June sound like that again.

'_Target is in custody. Bringing her back now.'_

Waterford pressed a button on the communications board and Commander Johnson responded. "Any casualties?"

_'Two dead. The pilot and Guardian Adams, Sir.'_

He had known Adams. He was a good guy, just wanted to find his daughter and get her out. Became a Guardian to make it easier. He looked around the table. None of these men cared about Rick's kid. None of them cared about that pilot. To them it was just two more problems taken care of. He watched as Waterford whispered something to Johnson. Johnson nodded.

The door opened and a Guardian walked in. He handed a piece of paper to Commander Johnson then walked back out. The silence that filled the room as Johnson read was suddenly a lot more tense than before. Johnson looked up, handing the paper to Waterford. "It seems that you've been implicated in assisting with your Handmaid's escape attempt." Another button was pressed. The door opened again- four Guardians this time. "Escort Commander Blaine downstairs. There are some questions I'd like the answers to before he returns home."

Two Guardians pulled him from his chair.

Waterford's voice reached him just as he got to the door.

"Don't worry, Johnson, I'll make sure the Handmaid is taken care of."

He didn't miss the smirk on Waterford's face as the Guardians led him out of the room.


	15. Chapter 9

**AN: Trigger Warning**

Sexual Assault

Physical Abuse

Mentions of Rape

Suicide

* * *

Things were different after she got back. June felt herself pulling away from everyone. She didn't talk to Alma on their walks anymore. She hadn't been to any Mayday meetings. Alma didn't ask, but even if she had… June had nightmares. Sarah treated her differently- like she would run if the door was open for too long. Maybe she would. Eden was easy. No one saw Eden anymore. Not since Isaac was put on the wall. It was a pain June understood too well.

Then there was Nick…

She couldn't avoid him. She couldn't be angry with him. He had helped her get out. He had risked everything to try and get her away. He had held her after she told him Luke was alive. He had lain in her bed every night since the Eyes brought her back to help fight the nightmares she had. And she was carrying his baby. There was a part of him growing inside of her. She didn't want to ignore him. But she didn't know what to say to him.

She had wanted to leave. She had been ready to leave him behind and never look back. And it hadn't even worked. It just…hadn't worked. And she kept getting stuck on that part. And she was angry. She was scared. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it would, right? It had to. And she wasn't sure she could handle it. She wasn't sure what else she could take before she fell apart completely.

So she pulled away. She kept her distance. She didn't look him in the eye when he came to her room at night. She didn't sit in the kitchen while Sarah baked cookies that no one ate. She didn't smile at Eden when she passed like a ghost in the hallway. Because she was waiting for the other shoe.

And finally, it dropped.

* * *

Waterford kept showing up. Almost every day there was some reason for him to 'stop by'. And almost all of those reasons needed June's presence. Eden was too lost in her grief and depression to notice, but June caught the way Sarah seemed to always be just one room away. They hadn't told Nick, yet. Something had happened to him that he wouldn't talk about. June didn't want him to worry. She didn't want to put him in the middle of something he might not be able to come out of. She still didn't know how to talk to him.

But she couldn't hide her stress. The bags under her eyes were getting darker the more Waterford came over. June stopped answering the door when Sarah wasn't home. She didn't want to risk it being Waterford. She didn't go to the market if Alma couldn't go with her. She had started to notice Waterford's car on her street on the mornings she went to the market. She didn't even eat like she used to- her nerves were too shot. She tried, though, for her baby.

But she could feel herself going a little bit crazy. She could feel paranoia creeping in and taking over. And it pissed her off. She shouldn't have to deal with this shit. Trapped in a country that didn't give a shit about her or her agency or whether or not she fucking liked the color _red._ The least they could do was give the illusion of safety- at least pretend that she was more than a sex toy in the Commanders' minds. But that was too hard, obviously. And since Waterford practically ran this place he could do and say and touch whatever he wanted.

And right now, he wanted her.

June stepped into the house. She had gone to the market with Alma because Sarah needed an extra tomato for supper that night. She didn't mind. It was a nice day and Alma had been anxious to get away from her Commander's wife. But as she placed the fresh produce into the refrigerator she heard footsteps. They weren't Eden's and they weren't Sarah's. Besides she had seen Sarah's note on the counter- she had gone to visit a sick Martha.

She felt like a girl in a horror movie- the one she always thought she was smarter than- as she stepped into the hallway. Commander Waterford was leaning against the doorframe of Nick's office. June already knew Nick wasn't home. He wouldn't be home until late that day. Important meetings. And Eden was most likely tucked away in the greenhouse. Which left June alone. With Waterford.

"Hello." His voice made her skin crawl. It made her think of the evil villains who were so sophisticated while they killed you. The ones with handkerchiefs to wipe your blood off of their hands. She took a step towards the stairs. "I was wondering if you'd…like to play a game."

_How about…fuck no?_

She inched closer to the steps. She was closer to them than he was to her, but that didn't mean anything. It wouldn't take much for him to get to her. He took a step towards her, eyes trailing along her body. For once she was happy to be wearing her uniform- less for him to see. She kept moving, but now so did he- taking a step for each of her two.

"It's not appropriate for you to be here when no one else is home," she tried. _How did he even get in?_ Waterford's lips curled up into a smile. It was charming. Almost hid the lust in his eyes. "Maybe you could come back when Commander Blaine is home." The smile didn't waiver. But his eyes were hard and cold.

"Commander Blaine's presence is unnecessary. The two of us are alright, don't you think?"

Her foot hit the bottom step as she nodded. She watched him take one more step. June turned and rushed up the stairs, grabbing her skirt so she wouldn't trip on it. That was her mistake. Because the moment she turned, Waterford stopped pretending. She saw him rush towards the steps. Their feet pounded as they both ran up the stairs.

_Just get to your room. Just get to your room. Just get to your room._

Adrenaline was coursing through her body and her heart was beating so fast it hurt. But she didn't slow down. She reached the landing and turned down her hall. She could see her door. She just had to get there. But suddenly a hand grabbed the fabric of her skirt and yanked her backwards. She lost her footing and stumbled back into Waterford's chest.

"Ah, ah. Don't fight me," he said as June's hands tried to pry his arm away from her. She kicked and squirmed as she tried to get away, but his arms had hers pinned to her sides. "Stop it. Ofnicholas, stop. It doesn't have to be unpleasant." She nearly gagged. He couldn't actually think she'd just-lie-back-and-think-of-England her way through this.

Her struggles came to an abrupt halt when her head collided with the wall. She blinked to clear the bright spots that were suddenly floating in her vision, but it didn't help. Then she was being flipped around, her back pressing into the wall, as Waterford braced a forearm across her throat. Her hands came up to pull his arm away- to restore her ability to breathe. But he was too strong.

Waterford grabbed at her skirt, pulling it up with one hand as he pressed his pelvis against hers. She was getting lightheaded from fear and lack of oxygen. Hysteria was building, clawing up her spine and along her nerves. She had to stay awake. She had to stop this. _This_ could not happen.

She slapped at arms. Fabric tore from her body. She kicked and thrashed. A zipper slid open. Her vision spotted out. Harsh breaths hit her face. Black filled the edges of her vision. He pressed against her thigh. Her arms went weak. He brought her leg up.

A door opened downstairs.

Waterford pulled back. June collapsed to the floor. Her lungs burned. She was dizzy. Nausea washed over her as she tried to drag air into her body. She heard Waterford putting himself in order. But there was too much black for her to see him. She could still feel his hands on her body. She could still feel the weight of his arm across her throat. There was a line of wetness on the inside of her thigh that came from him. She could feel it. She could feel him.

She curled into a ball as he made his way to the stairs. Air rattled in her throat. She winced every time she swallowed. She could feel herself shaking. A cold had settled under her skin, into her bones. Voices came to her from far away as she laid there on the floor. She was just so tired. And cold.

She was so cold.

* * *

She woke up in her bed.

The sun had set. The lamp was on so she could see. She didn't know how she got there. Her mind went back- trying to remember what happened. She tried to remember why her throat was so sore, why her muscles ached everywhere. Then she did. And suddenly she felt like something was trying to drown her.

Luckily the door opened before the memories pulled her under. Nick walked in. His eyes scanned her body like he was looking for injuries. He probably was. But she wasn't injured- not really. Just sore and disgusted and in need of a shower. She needed more than one shower. She could still feel his hands on her.

"How's your neck?" She shrugged. It hurt. He knew that. "Did it go as far as it could have gone?" She shook her head before looking away. She felt something spike through her. Something like shame. Nick moved closer to the bed. Slowly- like he didn't want to startle her. If her muscles hadn't tensed when he moved she might have thought he was overreacting.

"_You_ had great timing."

Nick winced. Her tone was sharp. She sounded angry. Maybe she was. He hadn't been there. She had been alone with a monster and no one had been there. Maybe she was pissed that he went to work that morning. Maybe she was mad that he didn't come back early. Maybe she hated him for letting an actual snake into his house.

Or maybe she wasn't mad at all. Maybe she was disgusted with herself. She had stayed downstairs instead of going straight to her room. Maybe she was confused. Had she made Waterford think she was playing hard to get? Maybe she was worried. She could be taken from the house for this- put with strangers.

Nick's hand slid along the comforter. She watched as it came closer to her. "I can get Sarah if you want." Did she want that? Would she feel better with Sarah? Safer? She shook her head. Her brows furrowed as she let out a shaky breath. She made a fist- felt her nails digging into her skin. "June." Nick's hand covered hers and gently laid her fingers flat so that their palms touched. His thumb brushed the back of her hand.

She finally let herself look at him again. He was kneeling on the floor beside the bed. His free hand rested on the blanket by her hip- closer but not too close. His face was blank like it always was. But as always, his eyes told her everything. They told her that he was sorry. They told her that he was hurting because she was hurting. She saw his anger and his guilt. She saw the way he was trying not to let her see them. Everything she needed to know, he told her with his silent tongue and his screaming eyes.

"Can you stay here tonight?"

His forehead dropped to rest on their joined hands.

"Yeah, June."

* * *

June walked into Mrs. Blaine's sitting room. Everyone was there already. Nick stood by the window. Sarah sat in the chair closest to the door. And Eden was seated on the sofa. June had asked Sarah to make sure she came downstairs that evening. It had taken a long time, but Eden was there. Pale and skinnier than she should be, but there.

June felt something inside of her twist as she saw Eden's empty expression and dull eyes. June had looked like that once. Right after she got to the Red Center. Right after she lost Luke. Only Isaac hadn't miraculously survived. Eden couldn't get him back. June stepped into the center of the room to keep from thinking about Luke. He didn't belong in this moment.

"I have news." She felt her throat close up. This would change everything. After she told them, there was no taking it back. There would be visits from Aunt Lydia and trips to the doctor. The dynamic in the house would change. Sarah would treat her differently. Nick wouldn't touch her the same way. And Eden… Honestly June didn't know how Eden would react. But she couldn't keep it a secret. June's eyes landed on Nick. "I'm pregnant."

Sarah's hands flew to her mouth and June saw tears forming in her eyes. It was nice to know that someone was happy for her. _Not you- them._ Of course, of course her mind wouldn't let her have that. The thought had June pressing her nails into her palms. But she smiled back at Sarah. It was better than looking at Nick.

Eden shifted in her seat. Her eyes were locked on June's stomach like if she looked hard enough she could see the baby. "Are you sure?" Her voice sounded so dead. No emotion- no anything. "Maybe you're just sick. Like…" But June knew what she was going to say. She was going to ask if it was like her after the bombing- the stress making her sick. It would be an easy out. Of course she couldn't say that, though.

"I'm sure."

Eden nodded slowly, eyes still staring at June's stomach. Then she got up and left the room. Sarah looked from the door to June then back again. June didn't blame her. She wasn't sure what to think either. Finally Sarah stood up. "I'll just…um…I'll go make sure she's alright." Then she hurried out of the room and towards Eden's room.

It was silent then. A heavy silence. The kind that made you want to scream just to break the tension. Slowly, nervously, June turned to face Nick. His eyes were on the carpet in front of his feet. His head was lowered just enough that she couldn't actually see his expression.

"The office?"

She shook her head. There hadn't been enough time between the office and when she took the test. "The third Ceremony, I think." Nick's head slowly rose, his eyes finding hers. He didn't look surprised. He looked…like it made sense. She tried to think back to that night. Tried to think of what would make him look that way. But her mind was coming up blank.

Nick took a deep breath and let it out. "I thought the condom broke." Her eyes went wide. "I couldn't really look, but…" She understood. He wasn't supposed to have one. And if he had examined it Eden would have noticed. It was too risky. But… He could have told her. He could have said that there was a chance she might be pregnant with his baby.

"You still sent me away."

He didn't say anything for a minute. It was like he was choosing his words. He shook his head gently. "It had been a month. And you needed to go." She watched something in his eyes change. "You still need to go." For some unexplainable reason hearing him say that hurt. She didn't even know why. She agreed with him. But it felt like…

She didn't know what it felt like- it just didn't feel right.

* * *

They woke up to Sarah's screams.

* * *

Red pooled on white tile.

Pale blue satin floated in clear water.

Damp lashes framed once hazel eyes.

* * *

June would never forget the way Nick had flinched when his skin had touched Eden's. The pained groan that left him would stay with her always. Sarah's pale face melted into Eden's lifeless one. The tears in her eyes reminded June of the way Eden's wet lashes clumped together.

* * *

The Guardians carried Eden's body to a black van. She was wrapped in a yellow bed-sheet instead of the white sheet that the Guardian's had brought. Nick had insisted. _'It was her favorite color,'_ he'd said. The Guardians hadn't argued. What could they even say?

That's how the Eyes found them. Nick- standing at the open door of the black van. Sarah- sobbing into her apron. And June… She wasn't crying. She couldn't. It wasn't real yet. Eden wasn't dead. She wasn't wrapped in that sheet. She wasn't in that van. She was in the garden. She was pulling weeds. She wasn't dead.

Because fifteen year olds don't die. Seventy year olds die. Ninety year olds, they die. Not fifteen year old girls. Not in their bathrooms. Not with broken hearts. Not fifteen. So Eden wasn't dead. Because it wasn't her time. So it couldn't be real. So June wasn't crying.

* * *

The Eyes took Nick.

* * *

Commander Waterford took June.

No. He took the new _Offred._

* * *

Mrs. Waterford kept her locked in the bedroom. She never looked at her. She never spoke to her. For three months. But June felt the hatred- the contempt. And she felt the ugly, bitter, jealousy that fueled it. Because June was pregnant. Because June could carry a child. Because Fred Waterford fucked her every night.

The Martha brought her food. Nothing else. No news. No conversation. Not even her name. For three months. Nothing but tasteless food that had all the nutrients a growing baby needed. Offred had to wash her own clothes. Offred had to clean her own bathroom. Offred was to be given nothing more than the food and water necessary to keep her from dying.

Commander Waterford told her stories. After he raped her. After his breathing calmed down and his sweat was drying on her skin. He told her about the places he'd traveled. He told her about the people he'd met- the important ones. Told her about the women he'd fucked and how good she was. He told her he was excited to be a father. He would guide her hand over his cock while his hand rested on her stomach- heavy on the round bump there.

He would talk to her baby- _Nick's_ baby. He called it _theirs_\- his and hers. As if Nick didn't exist. It made her sick. It made her crazy. It made her wish she had followed Eden's lead. Because this- this prison, this nightmare- it couldn't go on. Every night she vomited into the toilet. Every night she brushed her teeth until her gums bled. Every night she scrubbed her skin raw to get his touch and his scent and _him_ off of her and out of her.

She was losing herself and she wasn't sure how to stop it.

* * *

The Eyes came for her.

Mrs. Waterford tried to stop them. She tried to claim the baby as theirs. But Sarah had already told them the truth. Waterford tried, too. He used his status. He tried intimidation. But in the end, June went into the black van and the Waterford's stayed at their house.

She didn't ask where she was going.

She didn't care.

* * *

Sarah was hugging her before June was properly out of the van. She hadn't recognized the neighborhood. She hadn't recognized anything until Sarah's voice was in her ear welcoming her back home. June pulled away. She could still feel his hands on her. Always his hands.

She looked at the house before her. Same house. Same lawn. Same flowers. But nothing felt right, now. Not the house or the air or her skin. Nothing fit. Nothing felt like it should. But she stepped into the house anyway. She followed Sarah to her little room with the lilac comforter and the window seat.

Somehow she ended up in the tub. Her eyes stared at her naked wrists, the blue veins clearly visible. She wondered how it would feel to have her blood leave her body like Eden's had. She wondered if it would feel better than what she felt in that moment- like there was too much pressure in her veins and too much body to fit her skin. She reached her other hand over to trace the veins. Her elbow touched her stomach.

She let the water pull her under.

* * *

She slapped Nick the first time he touched her.

* * *

She vomited when Sarah made eggs and toast.

Waterford's Martha always brought eggs and toast in the mornings.

* * *

She woke screaming for weeks.

And every time she did, Nick was there.

* * *

She had nightmares of blood-filled bathtubs and locked bedrooms.

She saw music boxes and pocket watches.

She dreamed of Nick's voice speaking Waterford's words.

And it wouldn't stop.

It never stopped.

* * *

Nick brought her music at night to help her sleep.

He whispered the lyrics as he sat by the window.

It drowned out Waterford's voice.

* * *

Sarah brought her flowers from the garden.

It replaced Mrs. Waterford's music box.

* * *

She was five months pregnant.

Doctor confirmed that everything was fine. She heard the heartbeat. She saw her baby. It was everything. It was perfect. She would burn the world before she let her child be born in this place. And when she had looked at Nick after it was all over she knew he was thinking the same thing. Their baby was going to be free.

It had been four months since Eden- a month since the Waterfords. One month of nightmares and panic attacks. One month of drifting. One month of grief and fear and apathy. But it was over. She couldn't be the way she had been for the past month- the past four months, really . Because her baby needed her to be more. She could heal when her baby was safe. She could try to find the lost pieces of her soul when her sanity wasn't tied to escape plans. Then maybe she could figure out June again. Learn to be that person- the one from before.

June didn't speak when she got home. _When did the Blaine house become home?_ That was a question she didn't want to think about too closely. She was scared of what the answer might be. So she trudged up the stairs, instead. Her pregnancy made her tired. Her baby bump wasn't very big- it was only the second trimester- but extra weight was extra weight. She felt it.

She reached the landing, turned to the right- towards her room. But the door across from her room was open. It was never open. No one used it. Sarah slept on the other hall- it wasn't appropriate for a Handmaid to be so close to the pure of body. _Fuck you, too, Gilead._ June pushed the door open all the way and froze.

A mini-forest greeted June as she stepped inside. Tan walls were covered with brown tree trunks and dark green leaves. Green grass was painted onto the baseboards. White clouds were painted at the top of the walls and a little onto the ceiling on a blue background. And there were white stars against a blue ceiling. June saw animals hidden in among the trees and there were little ants and caterpillars in the grass.

A white crib sat beside the window and a changing table was next to it. And on the other side of the window sat a beautiful white rocking chair. June had never dreamed about babies and decorating the baby's room. She had always put those thoughts aside for until she was ready to have a baby. But this… It was perfect. It was light and fanciful. She loved it- everything about it.

"I wanted something." June turned to see Nick standing in the doorway to the room. "In case things take a while." She turned back to the nursery. She didn't want to think about that. They couldn't afford for things to take a while. She trailed a finger along the edge of the crib. There was a mobile inside, waiting to be put up. It had jungle animals- their little faces smiling happily.

She felt Nick's eyes on her. It made her smile. She turned back to face him again. "It's beautiful," she said softly. "Maybe the baby will have something like this in Canada." Nick looked away, his expression shuttering. "What?" He looked around the room and shook his head. "Nick."

But he didn't say anything. He just kept taking in the room. Slowly it dawned on her. This was all he would have. She knew he wasn't planning to leave with her. It would be too dangerous. But she hadn't let it sink in. She would be leaving. She would be taking their baby with her. Probably before it was born. He might never see his child. If he gets caught for helping her escape, if he can't get to Canada- she might never see Nick again. And all he'd have were a few sonogram pictures and this room.

The room he had decorated and filled with cute things and baby books. The room that was everything she could have dreamed of. The room he spilled every ounce of love he had for his child into. Deep, pure, palpable love. A room they both hoped they never had to use, but that he wanted to make special just in case.

June walked over to stand in front of Nick. It was the closest she had been to him without having a nightmare first. Her hands shook as she laid it on his arm. Their eyes met and June could see so much in his. She wondered what he saw in hers. Because whatever it was made him smile. And it had been too long since she seen that. "Thank you."

It sounded like something else.

"You're welcome."

That sounded like something else, too.

* * *

She didn't sleep that night. That night she thought of Luke. She thought of their life together. She thought of the life they could have had together. And it was good. It was happy and fun and full of so much love. She could see little mixed kids with his skin tone and her eyes. She could imagine it all. And it was all beautiful.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Now she wanted the nursery across the hall. Now she wanted babies with Nick's curls and dark eyes. She wanted kids with her smile and his nose. She wanted to cuddle in their bed for story-time. She wanted a life- a good life- and she wanted it with Nick.

The person she was before Gilead- the woman she was then- was gone. The love she had felt then- it changed. She wasn't forgetting. She hadn't stopped missing Luke. And she would always wish that Gilead hadn't taken that life from her. But she couldn't regret Nick. She couldn't regret this baby. Every awful thing, every violation- it had changed her. Made her into someone that the old June wouldn't recognize. She had been broken- she was still broken. Maybe she always would be. Like a glass figurine after it shatters- maybe she'd always have cracks, now. But she had learned and grown. She was stronger. So she let go of old June. She let go of the life she'd had before.

And finally, she let go of Luke- at least in all the ways that mattered most.


	16. Dark Silence

Johnson was out of town.

He had been for the past month. That's how long Nick had been here. That's how long it had been since he had seen June. How long it had been since Eden. How long it had been since the pain started. They said it was because of Eden- because of her affair with Isaac. They said it wouldn't be the first time a man had killed his wife over infidelity.

Or to be with another woman.

So for the past month they had come in every day. '_nothing permanent'._ Those were the only limitations to what they could do. There were a lot of things that could break a person that don't leave permanent damage. The beatings they gave him, for example.

He was almost used to it by now- the pain. He could almost block it out. But he couldn't block out the dark. He couldn't block out the silence. They made everything clear. There was nowhere to hide in the dark. His demons lived in the dark and they liked to play with him there. They liked to poke at the old wounds he carried. Wounds with names like 'Josh' or 'Mom'. Wounds that felt like memories. No, the pain was almost a reprieve.

And the silence…it wasn't silent. It was loud. He heard everything in the silence. He heard the sound of Eden's blood hitting the bathroom tiles. He heard the slow destruction of the hope that used to shine in her eyes. He heard the fear in Isaac's voice as they put a burlap bag over his head. He even heard the anger in his father's voice when he went job hunting and didn't come back until his funeral. The pain was almost a mercy.

And even though he flinched when the door opened…

He welcomed it.

* * *

They stopped beating him.

Electrocution was the method they used now- for the last month, really. It was different. The burn was more sharp. Fists and rods hurt, but there was almost a comfort to the familiarity. There was no familiarity to being electrocuted. Each burn was different each pain was strange and new. All similar, but…_different._

Or maybe it just felt different with the lights on.

That had changed to. There was no darkness anymore. There was never any darkness. There was no day or night- only the blinding white of industrial fluorescent lights. He had welcomed it the first day. And the second. And the twelfth. But now, _there was no darkness._ His body couldn't sleep and his mind was played tricks in the light that it hadn't in the dark.

There was no more silence, either. The lights buzzed. And there was always the sound of the war- or _a_ war- playing in the room. He didn't know where the sound came from. He didn't know if the sounds were real. But they felt real. The gunfire felt real. The explosions felt real. The screams… they were the only thing he knew for certain was real.

He started to see her- June. She would stand under the light, where it was the brightest. She would smile as the gunfire from the speakers tore through her. Her screams would be the screams of dying men. Then she would be gone- faded into nothing. And Eden would take her place. Bloody wrists and a drenched blue dress, mouth open with the sound of bombs exploded in place of her usual silence.

He begged for silence. He screamed himself horse to drown out the wars in the speakers and in his head. He prayed- to a god he barely believed in-for darkness. It had been safer there. He could sleep there and his nightmares were a reprieve from his demons. But there was no silence and no darkness.

There was just war and blood and horrible light.

* * *

Waterford lied.

Johnson was back. He thought it had only been a few days. Waterford said it had only been a few days. He thought the investigation was new. Waterford said the investigation was new. So another month passed. But there was no investigation- Nick knew that. There was nothing but lies and bright darkness and silent sound.

And Waterford.- he was a constant now, too.

Offred was showing. Offred was putting on healthy weight. Offred could feel the baby move. Offred tasted like berries. Offred looked lovely tied naked to her bed. Offred's cunt felt like heaven. Offred was this. Offred was that. Nick knew everything about Offred.

But never June.

Nick didn't know anything about June. He didn't know about their baby. He only knew about Offred's baby. Something- some part of him said they were the same, but… It didn't _feel_ the same. Nick and _June_ had a baby. Nick and _June_ were happy. Nick _loved_ _June_. But Offred… Offred had never been pregnant. Offred had hung herself from the ceiling. Offred…she was broken and then she was gone.

But…something said they were the same.

The metal door scraped across the concrete floor. Commander Johnson walked in. Two Guardians walked in after him. Then, finally, came Waterford. Nick lifted his head. The light was too bright- it made the darkness sound louder. The speakers were quiet now and it made his ears rings from so much soundlessness.

"Get him some clean clothes and take him home, boys. I want his handmaid delivered back to him from the Red Center in twenty-four hours," Johnson said.

The guardians pulled nick up but his demons were learning to play in the light. Their hands were bloody from the war and Nick could see the souls of the dead hanging from their fingers. He couldn't let them touch him. So he stepped away, held himself like the Commander they thought he wanted to be.

He followed them out of the cell.

He let the hot water of the shower wash away the demons and the silence.

He went home and waited for June to come home.


	17. Chapter 10

It felt like such a breakthrough- moving on from Luke. It felt like she had made real progress with herself and finding who she was again. And for the entire night and half of the next day she was confident and sure of herself. She was present.

Until Sarah accidentally bumped into her.

Then it was like she was back in that hallway, back in that house with those people. Hands she didn't want were touching her again. And it was terrifying- disorienting. To be completely fine one second and trapped inside your worst memories the next. She hated it. The feeling, the emotions, the way she couldn't snap out of it.

She had tried to play it off afterwards. Sarah's sad face and the timid way she left the room just made June feel even worse. And she couldn't keep living like that. The constant fear of being touched, the distance. She wanted to be herself again- with all the casual touch that came with that. She couldn't let Waterford take anything else from her.

So she went to Nick. She had thought about it for hours before she finally went to his room. She had talked herself in and out of her idea for so long that she was too annoyed to think about it anymore. So she had waited until Sarah had gone to bed. Then she had snuck down to Nick's room.

The door was barely closed before she blurted, "I need you to fuck me." Nick froze. Not that she blamed him. She couldn't believe she had said it like that, either. It wasn't even what she had been arguing with herself about all day. "I meant- Not _fuck_ me, fuck me. Just…Shit." She couldn't even explain it now. She had freaked herself out. She was questioning everything again.

And Nick was just standing there. Watching her. _Super helpful, Nick._ She felt a flash of anger in her belly. He could at least say something instead of staring at her like…whatever he was staring at her like. What was that look? She thought she knew all of his looks. _God this was such a bad idea. You're not ready. For any of this. Just go back upstairs._

But of course her feet wouldn't move. Apparently Nick wasn't having that same problem, though. Because he walked over to her like she hadn't just tried to proposition him. He stopped when there was barely two inches of space between them. She hated it- how close he was. She hated the way his body sent waves of heat crashing into hers. She hated that she felt his breath on her face. It was too close. He was too close.

He stepped back. She took a breath.

Nick shook his head once. "Not tonight." She really was losing it. She had to be, because she felt disappointed by his rejection. Who cares that she was literally unable to breathe twenty seconds ago? But he softened the blow a little. "We'll get there," he said, as he carefully touched a finger to the back of her hand. She didn't flinch too much.

It was a start.

* * *

He touched her shoulder the next morning.

He nudged her arm in the afternoon.

He held her hand for two seconds that night.

* * *

She straightened his tie the next week.

She played with his hair for a few seconds the night after.

She half- hugged him three days later.

* * *

It was little things that made the fear ease a little. The way he always waited for permission before he touched her. The way he would stand still when she wanted to touch him back. Fingers touching turned to hand holding. A hand on a shoulder became a kiss there instead. It was slow and gentle- no pressure, no rush for more. And gradually it made her want more. As the fear ebbed and her confidence grew.

She laid on Nick's bed with her head resting on his shoulder. It was the first time they had been back in his bed. It was the first time she had wanted to be in his bed. His fingers were drawing shapes on her belly. It tickled a little, but June liked it. She liked the way Nick smiled when he felt the baby move.

"We should think about names, huh?" She bit back a smile at the startled expression that took over Nick's face. Reaching blindly, June found Nick's free hand and laced their fingers together. It almost felt normal again. This time her smile came through. "Do you have any ideas?"

Nick shook his head, pausing the movement over her belly. "Do you?"

She didn't. Not really. She had only been thinking about names since she crawled into his bed a few hours ago. She thought of the names she liked. Elizabeth, Madison, and Alexis were the three that circled in her brain the most for girls. But boys were trickier. The names she liked all happened to be the names of her exes. And that just…wouldn't work. She had a feeling Nick wouldn't want to name the baby after him, so that was out. "No, but it's okay, right? We've got time."

Nick's grip tightened on her hand slightly. "I don't think we do." She tilted her face up so she could see his. He was staring at a spot on the wall, brows furrowed. "I want you to leave soon. I've got people who can get you out by the end of the month. Maybe a little later." June felt a chill spreading through her veins. She had always known he wouldn't be coming, but she couldn't help notice the lack of 'we' or 'us' in this.

June sat up and turned so they faced each other. "What about you? What happens to you after I'm gone?" She could guess. But she didn't want to guess. She wanted him to say it. He had never told her what happened after the Eyes took him. She never knew why she had been trapped in that house for so long. He hadn't been ready to talk and she hadn't been in a place to listen. But this was different. "Nick."

His dark eyes found hers. She could see him thinking- deciding how much to tell her and what to hold back. But she wouldn't let him protect her from this. She needed to know. She loved him too much to just leave him to some unknown fate. "They'll take me in. interrogate me. Best case I get demoted. Worst case- the wall."

Interrogate meant torture. They would torture him. She would be leaving him to be tortured. And there was no best case. This was Gilead. He would be on the wall before she crossed the border. There was no other outcome if he stayed. Just pain and death. "Then you come with me- with us." He smiled at her and she wanted to scream. Because it was sad and it meant no and she hated it. "Fine. Fine, we'll stay. Until you can get out too, we'll stay."

"No. When that plane leaves, you're gonna be on it." She felt frustrated tears welling in her eyes. Nick took her hands and pulled her onto his lap. She barely flinched. _Whoopdee-fucking-doo._ Nick pressed a soft kiss to her forehead as he held her. "You're gonna get our baby out of here," he whispered. He wasn't playing fair- he knew he wasn't. "You're gonna get out of here, June."

She buried her face into his chest, needing to be closer. He was right. She knew he was right. She couldn't stay. She couldn't leave her baby. She couldn't leave Nick to go to some other man's house. Not now- not after what they had become to each other. But she didn't want to lose him. And she would- if she left she'd lose him. To distance, to Gilead's sick games- there was no way for her to keep Nick if she left Gilead.

And how could she be ready for that?

* * *

Nick started staying out later after their talk. He left earlier in the mornings, too. June knew it had to do with getting her out. She hadn't been to a Mayday meeting since before Eden. She wanted to- she was ready to reach out again- but leaving the house still seemed too risky. She still saw Waterford's car parked down the street some mornings. So she stayed in.

She hadn't heard from Alma recently either. Her Martha did the shopping now, June had seen her going back and forth. She wondered if Alma's pregnancy was going okay. She was a little further along than June, maybe a month. They hadn't been friends- closer to allies- but June hoped she was alright. She hoped that Alma was still fighting however she could. It was more than what she was doing.

It wasn't that June didn't want to be doing more. She did. She wanted to help get other Handmaids out. She wanted to get kids back to their parents. She always had, but now it was even more important to her. She was going to be a mom. And she would already give anything to make sure her baby stayed safe and _with her_. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for her baby.

She settled more comfortably into Nick's bed. She didn't like sleeping alone anymore. So she usually started her night in her room- for appearances- then snuck down to his after Sarah was asleep. Before, he would wait up for her. Now she was the one waiting for him. She usually fell asleep before he got home, but he always made sure to wake her up when he got home. She was still jumpy- still nervous about touch. So he always made sure to give her space. She had a feeling she might never fully lose that fear.

_Fuck you, Waterford._

Laying her hand on her stomach, June whispered, "You are so lucky to have the dad that you have. He's gonna be so great. And he loves you so much already." She thought about the nursery he had made. And she remembered the way his face had lit up the first time he felt the baby move. "You're gonna have a good life, Little One. I promise."

The baby kicked against her hand and June smiled. Her whole life she had always seen kids as an abstract- something that would probably happen…eventually. She remembered the panic she felt when her and Luke had their false alarm. In her perfect life, she hadn't been ready. But somehow in this hellish place, she was.

It was so strange to her. The fear she had when she found out had nothing to do with being a mom or caring for a baby- it had all been about what Gilead would do. She had been happy underneath all the fear. And seeing Nick's face at the first ultrasound they went to together- knowing just how in this he was, made it better. She trusted him- to love their baby and keep it safe.

So that's how they stayed- June whispering little things and feeling the baby move and kick. It was like it was talking back. June loved it. Her eyes were closed and she could feel sleep pulling her under when the front door closed. She listened as Nick's steady footsteps made their way up the stairs and to the door. She just barely opened her eyes so she could see him.

He looked tired, but that was nothing new lately. Still, he let a small smile touch his lips when he saw her. She knew he liked seeing her in his bed. And she liked being there, so it worked out. He closed the door and started working the knot of his tie. He tossed it onto a chair in the corner and started unbuttoning his shirt. That was usually her thing- taking his shirt off when he came home. But tonight she decided to just enjoy the view.

"How was work, Honey?" she teased.

She smiled at the way his hands stopped on the third button, eyes narrowing in her direction. He finished unbuttoning the shirt and pulled it off. He kicked his shoes off as he worked the button of his pants. June let her eyes trail his bare chest. Her fingers itched to touch him- she was still getting used to that feeling. Nick dropped his pants and crawled onto the bed.

"My day was fine, Dear. How was yours?"

His voice was so even and his face straight that anyone else would have missed the flicker of amusement in his eyes. But she didn't. She slid closer to Nick as he laid down, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Nick's arm wrapped around her and settled on her waist. _What's left of it. _It was the most comfortable she had been all day. Safe in his arms and warm in his bed.

This was what she wanted. She had known for a while, but it really hit her in that moment. She wanted this man. She wanted nights like this. She wanted days talking and laughing and telling truly awful jokes. She wanted that soft expression he made when he whispered things to the baby. She wanted to take him out and show him off without worrying about Guardians or Eyes.

She wanted a life with Nick Blaine- forever.

So she told him. Wrapped up in his sheets, his hand on the curve of her baby bump- she told him. She told him about the house she wanted them to have. She told him about shopping trips to the mall for baby. She told him about dates and sports games and going to bookstores. She told him how she imagined calling him when she was running late from work or leaving sticky notes for each other around their house.

"I want that, Nick. I want us to have that."

He was quiet for the longest time. But finally he shifted so he could see her clearly. His dark eyes found hers and she felt so much just from the way he looked at her. It made her heart hurt a little from how special he made her feel. He laced their fingers together as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"I love you, June."

She pressed closer to him and he held her tighter.

"I love you, Nick."

* * *

Something was different. _Nick_ was different. He had been since he got home from work. It was still early afternoon. Sarah would still be out for a few hours. But no matter how many times June asked, he wouldn't tell her anything. Instead he was just…watching her. Observing her as if trying to capture the essence of her and etch it into his mind. It made her feel naked- nervous. But it made her feel loved, too. Like no one had ever seen her this way before, like no one could ever appreciate what they saw the way he did.

He sat in the arm chair in front of his bedroom window as she laid across his bed. _It's his eyes…_ He had never looked at her like that. There was so much intensity in his gaze as it rested on her. The way he traced the lines of her body with his eyes made her wish he were closer. She wanted his hands to follow the path his eyes were trailing.

"Nick?" she whispered. Her breath caught in her throat at the way his eyes went darker. Her eyes dropped to his mouth as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips. "Nick," she rasped, voice lower than normal. His eyes slowly made their way back up her body and he arched a brow.

His eyes met hers questioningly, but…she couldn't speak. The sheer amount of heat in his eyes- the blatant _want_. Her mouth was suddenly dry and words were impossible. But she didn't look away and neither did he. Slowly, he stood from his chair. There had always been something raw- primal- about Nick. She had sensed it almost from the beginning. But never had it been on display like this.

Her breathing was too fast, she realized. And there was a growing dampness between her thighs as he walked towards her. And not once did he look away. He stopped beside the bed and slowly wrapped a hand around her ankle. A small, needy whimper fell from her lips as his hand made its way up her calf and to the back of her knee.

"June, say the word and this stops." Her eyes clamped shut as his voice washed over her. It was low, smoky and so delicious. She almost didn't understand what he said. But his hand squeezed her leg and she remembered to nod. Her eyes opened again and she bit her lips to hold in a moan at the look in his eyes. "I need to hear you say it, June."

Her voice was a shaky whisper, but the words tumbled over each other as she nodded. "I'll tell you." His other hand pressed into the mattress as he leaned over her, the hand on her leg moving higher up to her thigh. "Nick, I swear, I'll tell you, just keep-_"_ Her sentence died on a gasp. His hand cupped her through her underclothes and her lungs seized.

He was staring at the fabric of her skirt that had ridden up as his hand moved to her thigh. It hid his hand from view as he curled two fingers to drag along her covered slit. Her hand flew out blindly to find something- anything- to anchor herself to. It was so much. His touch, his eyes, just…everything. Her breaths were coming in pants and he had barely even _touched_ her.

Then his hand was gone and she felt tears prick her eyes. Her hand grabbed his- tried to put it back where she needed him. But for once he didn't give her what she wanted. His lips slowly curved up into a smile, but the heat in his eyes made it almost unbearably wicked. "I'm going to touch you, June. But you're not gonna touch me." Her eyes widened slightly and she felt herself clench around nothing. "Tonight, I just wanna watch you come for me."

Her hands fisted the blanket, her tongue slid out to wet her dry lips. Then Nick was pulling her into a sitting position. His hands wrapped around her as he slowly guided her zipper down and slipped her dress and underclothes from her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the newly exposed skin of her shoulder as she pulled her arms from the dress. Then his hands gently pressed her back onto the mattress.

His lips never left her skin, trailing kisses along her collarbone and down to the valley of her breasts. His hands moved down her sides until they gathered the fabric of her dress and underclothes, pulling it down her hips and off of her legs. His lips followed, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses around her breasts and across the round skin of her belly. His tongue peeked out to lick into the crease of her thigh before his teeth nipped at the same spot.

Her hands flew to his curls before she could stop herself. Immediately he lifted his head, eyes nearly scorching hers when they met. "June." She whimpered and she watched the way his head dropped to her thigh for a moment, and a…almost growl pulled from his throat. He let his finger brush her clit as he looked up again. "Be good for me." She gave a jerky nod, hands slipping from his curls. "Thank you, June"

Then his thumbs were parting her folds and his tongue was on her- in her- _perfect. _

Her breath caught- then caught again as his mouth worked her. Her fingers ached from the grip she had on the blanket as he slid one, then two, fingers into her- finally giving her some relief. Her voice was a breathless, broken thing as she called his name, begged him to never stop. Her legs came up and wrapped around his shoulders when his teeth grazed her clit. And her head thrashed against the bed when he crooked his fingers _just right_ inside of her.

"_Nick! _Please, please, _please, Nick_, please."

She didn't even know what she was begging for but it didn't matter. Somehow he gave it to her. His mouth left her and he started working his way back up her body one kiss at a time. Her legs slipped from his shoulders to settle at his waist. His fingers never lost their rhythm and he held himself so that she could grind against his arm while his fingers fucked her and his mouth worshipped her.

His mouth landed on one breast while his free hand pleasured the other. It was so much. It was perfection. Her body didn't know how to handle the pleasure. And she needed- _something_. She needed… She needed to touch Nick. "Oh, god yes. I need to touch you. _Nick_, let me _touch you,_" she whined, voice high and desperate. "Please. Baby, please, I need to touch you."

His teeth sank into the underside of her breast and his breathing hitched. But she felt him shaking his head. He pressed kisses across her chest as he switched sides. "Not tonight." His voice was wrecked. Raw and deep, just like his fingers. She clenched around his fingers. "That's it, June. Come on." Suddenly his mouth was on hers and their tongues were dancing and she- she couldn't- "Come _on, June."_

The world shattered.

* * *

Sarah brought dinner early.

June barely noticed. What did it matter that her food came before six-thirty? She was still reeling from the afternoon Nick had given her. He hadn't stopped after the first time she came. Or the second. Fine tremors still ran through her legs when she walked. So she really didn't pay too much attention to the shift in schedule- not then, anyway. Instead, she ate her food and drank the water that was on her tray.

Later she'd think about how odd the water had tasted. Later she'd remember that there was a strange taste to the mashed potatoes she'd been given. But in the moment she was too preoccupied with when she could sneak to Nick's room for the night. She was thinking about how much she wanted to touch him this time. She was drunk on the thought of how good it felt to not feel fear or disgust when his hands were on her body now.

So when she got dizzy she barely noticed, and when the room started fading at the edges she told herself that she just needed to lie down. She crawled onto her bed, arms and legs almost too weak to hold her weight. She couldn't even find the energy to get under the blanket. She collapsed onto her pillow and just barely had time to think about how none of this was normal.

Then darkness pulled her under.

When she woke up, June wasn't home. She wasn't in Nick's bed. For too many moments, she didn't know anything. It was too dark to see much, and there was a loud whirring sound- like an engine or something. Her hand dropped to her stomach. Her mind calmed when the baby shifted beneath her palm. It was cold, and she briefly registered the weight of a blanket on her as she struggled to sit up. Her vision was hazy, and she was groggy. But finally she saw the window. She saw the hazy clouds she could almost touch.

Her eyes tracked around the rest of the plane. It was small, like the last one. There was no one in the back with her, like the last time. But this time the pilot was alive- this time no one was shooting at them. Her shaky hands fumbled with the seatbelt. The baby kicked. She carefully, clumsily, crawled to the front of the plane. The pilot must have heard her or seen her moving, because he turned as she reached the back of his seat. "I have strict orders from Commander Blaine to tell you, 'Welcome to Canada'."

June blinked back tears as her hand cradled her stomach.

_Daddy did it, baby. He got us out. We're free._


	18. M'aidez Pt 1

He looked in the rearview mirror.

June was laid across the backseat, a blanket covering the red of her uniform. She was still asleep. But her breathing was regular and he had felt the baby move as he carried her to the car. He hadn't wanted it to be like this. He hated that he couldn't say goodbye. He hated that she would wake up confused and alone.

But it was the right call.

Focusing back on the road ahead, he could just make out beginnings of the abandoned airstrip. He had been coming here after work every night to monitor the surveillance. There was none. No one knew that the plane in the field was functional. They didn't know that it was made to look rusted and un-useable. He still hadn't taken any chances, though. This was too important.

He turned off of the paved road and on to the gravel path that led to the runway. The closer he got, he could hear the plane's engine whirring. He looked at June again. But if she noticed the noise coming through his window, he couldn't tell. Pulling to a stop beside the plane he waited for the pilot to show himself.

_You could go. You could stay with them._

But there was no room in the plan for thoughts like those. He could try to get out later. Right now was her time. He looked up as movement came from his left. The pilot stepped around the plane- doing final checks. He nodded at Nick before continuing his work. It was time. It would be better to get her onboard now. He couldn't handle a repeat of her first attempt- or the consequences.

Pushing open his door, he got out of the car. He took a deep breath, letting the fear and sadness fall away. He was doing the right thing. That's all he could focus on. He pulled open June's door and gentle pulled her upright. Then he carefully scooped her into his arms and headed to the plane.

It was cold inside- no heating. But there was a nest of sorts on the floor and he saw a few blankets. He slid along the wall of the plane until he was sitting with June in his lap. This would be the last time he held her like this. The last time he could watch her sleep. He pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers. "I love you so much, June. I just want you to be happy. So please go be happy."

He slid out from underneath her and laid her in the next of blankets, covering her with the last two. He turned his head as he heard someone at the door. The pilot poked his head in and nodded. Nick turned back to June as the pilot left him alone again. His eyes went to the swell of her stomach. _I'm gonna miss everything._ The tears he had been trying to hold back stung his eyes. But he didn't let them fall. He cupped June's stomach and felt the baby shift. Then he bent down a pressed a kiss where the baby had just moved. "You are going to be happy and safe and free. And I love you more than anything, okay?" Then he was standing up. He turned away from the woman he loved. He walked off of the plane.

He didn't drive away until the plane was out of sight.

* * *

He stepped into the room and all eyes landed on him.

He saw Smith and Jacobs were already there. Mitchell and Jones, too. And the Marthas- Lera, Kim, Tina, and Sarah. The rest were probably still on their way. There was no way Carol or Kayla would miss this. And if he hadn't just put the mother of his child on a plane to a country he'd probably never see- he'd be excited too. This was it- this was the beginning of the end.

"Target out safely, Commander Blaine?"

He turned to Jones and nodded. "Stayed until they were at cruising altitude. It was the pilot's last communication." The group all seemed to breathe easier. "We need to get moving. Me and Sarah are ready to go. What about the rest of you?" He watched as they all nodded. He was glad- because they weren't coming back. "How far out are the others?"

Jacobs stepped forward. "Anna and Kathy should be here in ten. They were going to come together," he said. Then he glanced around the room nervously. Nick felt tension fill his body, bracing himself, but motioned for Jacobs to keep talking. The other man took a deep breath, then, "No one's heard from Rae in three days. Rachel went to her house, but no one answered."

His mind tried to think of all the reasons she might not be there- the ones that didn't involve death or betrayal. But…there weren't many. And they didn't have time to find out. She knew the plan- she knew the meet point. He had to believe she'd find her way to them. These people had become his friends and he wasn't ready to lose any of them. "Okay. Load up the trucks." He caught the frown on Sarah's face. "If she doesn't find us in three days and we don't hear anything- I'll come back for her."

No one liked the idea of someone staying behind, but it couldn't be helped. So they all moved to pack the supplies they'd need into the cargo trucks. Boxes of gunpowder packed as charcoal pellets. Hand grenades hidden inside of paperweights. Guns and casings stashed in false bottoms of food crates. Poison in vanilla extract bottles. They held death in their hands.

The last truck was packed by the time the rest of the Marthas arrived. Nick couldn't help the sigh of relief when he saw Rae standing with the group. She looked a little worn, but he would take worn over hurt or dead any day. "We weren't sure you would make it, Rae."

"And miss this? Not a chance, Sir."


	19. Epilogue

Luke had been at the hospital two hours after she was admitted.

It was…a lot. Almost too much. Seeing him after thinking he was dead for so long. Seeing the man she fell in love with- her husband- knowing that she had mourned him and let him go and loved someone else. She had never expected to see Luke again. She had never thought that she would have to deal with the feelings seeing him brought out in her.

But there he was and she felt everything. Pain and sadness, anger and mistrust, love- so much love. And fear. Fear of the heaviness of his hands on her body. Fear of the way he took in her pregnant body. Fear of how much she still loved him and how much it wasn't enough. Fear that he would look at her and see the old June- the woman from before- the woman she could never be again.

It took her a few days to realize exactly how different from the old June she really was. Days of sleeping in Luke's guest room instead of in the bedroom with him. Days of cringing when he cursed in public or tensing when he reached for her hand. Because as different as Canada was, she had been in Gilead too long to not expect violence- to not expect punishment for the smallest of things.

He didn't ask. He never asked. Not about the baby, not about what her time had been like. He asked if she was hungry. He asked if she wanted to watch TV. Nothing that mattered. Nothing that might open the door for a _real_ conversation. But she saw the way he watched her. She saw the way his eyes lingered on the swell of her baby bump. She saw how he tensed when she rubbed her stomach or flinched when she whispered to the baby.

But he didn't ask.

* * *

It had been a week since she reached Canada. One week of non-conversations with Luke. One week of wearing clothes that felt foreign to her. One week of hating herself for missing her uniform. One week of paperwork and doctor's and psych evaluations. One week of worrying that somehow Gilead would get to her. One week of feeling Waterford's hands and hearing Serena's music box and seeing Eden's dead eyes.

One week of waking up without Nick.

She had given herself a schedule the day after she got out of the hospital. Wake up at six and go for a walk around the block. Shower at six-thirty, breakfast at seven. After that she looked for baby things: crib, clothes, diapers, bottles. All the things she would need. All the things Nick had already bought. Luke usually didn't wake up until eight, so she made sure to be finished by the time he came out of his room. She couldn't forget the look on his face the one time he had seen her scrolling through changing tables online.

The rest of her morning was spent cooking and cleaning. Then lunch at the local café, and an hour browsing the stacks of the local library. She made sure to finish by three every afternoon. That was when she went to the refugee center. That was when she pretended she had her shit together and that she wasn't spiraling into insanity. For three hours- before she had to go back to Luke, go back to being a scared, broken thing-she was just a girl who took paperwork from one office to the next.

Not Luke's wife. Not Nick's lover. Not Waterford's toy. Not Offred or Ofnicholas or Ofclifford.

Not June.

For three hours she was no one and she loved it.

* * *

The first month in Canada was…rough. Nightmares plagued her nights. Flashbacks disrupted her days. She never felt safe. She never felt like it was real. The only thing that kept her tethered to the world was her baby- Nick's baby. She could feel it moving and that was real. She could whisper to it and that was real. But everything else… The rest of the world was hazy, unclear, what was real and what was safe was all a blur.

Then her phone beeped.

The pilot had given it to her as she got off the plane after her escape. She almost ignored it now, though. It was probably just Luke asking when she'd be back. Things were still tense between them. She hadn't told him about Gilead or Nick, but somehow he understood- their marriage was over. Still, he let her have his guest room and she clung to the familiarity of him. There was still so much love- just different, now. But he still checked on her through the day. And really, there weren't many people who texted her in Canada. But she looked anyway

_Unknown Number_

She opened the message.

_June. Everything's different without you. I miss you both. Nick._

She froze on the sidewalk. She reread the message- once, twice, five times. Ten words- it was just ten words. But it felt like everything. Her fingers shook and she tapped out a response. Then deleted it. Then typed another. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel tears on her cheeks. But she didn't care. Because somehow, someway, Nick had found a way to contact her. He was alive. And he missed her just like she missed him.

Finally she typed out something semi-coherent and pressed send. She waited and waited for the message to send. But it never did. And she knew- on some level she understood- that it was too risky for him to get messages back. That someone might figure it out. But it didn't stop the ache that took over her chest. The ache that didn't go away for another week.

The ache that only stopped when she got another message from him.

* * *

It was better after she started getting his messages. He sent twice a week after that first time. And on Fridays she could send one message back to him. She lived for his messages. She lived for Fridays. Because then she could tell him how much she loved him. Then she could tell him about the baby. She could send pictures of the sonogram or a stuffed animal she had bought the baby.

And she knew he loved it. She knew that everything she sent, he cherished. And knowing that he had a glimpse into her life here- that he was part of it- made things easier for her. Her nightmares weren't as frequent or as bad. She found her way out of them more easily now. And the worry and fear about Gilead was less. She didn't think it would ever really go away. Not while that place still existed- not when there were people in the world who genuinely believed the bullshit that place spouted. But she was better.

The baby was growing and healthy. She had found a job at the refugee center. She and Luke were in an okay place- not perfect, but better. And June could breathe again. She could walk down the street and not panic if someone brushed into her. She could hear the tinny sound of a music box without being thrown back into the Waterford's house. And imperfect as it was- she had Nick again.

She finally felt like she could do more than just exist.

* * *

He didn't text her.

He didn't text her and June felt herself panicking. She told herself not to- it had only been a few hours. But then a few hours turned into the entire night. And then a night became a day. A day became days. And by then she was beyond panic, she was beyond fear. Her world was shattering. Because he had to have gotten caught. He had to have been taken again. And really how many times could they take him before he didn't come back?

Luke tried to keep her calm. He told her that the stress wasn't good for the baby. But that just reminded her of Aunt Lydia and Mrs. Waterford. He tried to tell her that Nick was fine. But he didn't know that place- he hadn't _been_ there. He didn't know what it was like to walk down the street and see bodies hanging on the wall. He didn't know how it felt to wash blood out of your hair because a Salvaging got too messy. He _didn't know_.

But June did. And June knew that Nick wouldn't just stop texting her like that. That he wouldn't worry her this way. Which meant he was gone. Which meant that she would never know what happened. Their baby was due soon- two weeks. And now…She had never thought that Nick would be here when the baby was born. She never let herself dream. But she had hoped he'd be alive. She had hoped she could text him and tell him about their baby. Boy or girl, how big, full head of hair or bald. She had thought she'd be able to share those things with him.

Luke had to remind her to eat. He had to tell her to drink. He had to pull her out of bed and help her shower. Because the grief was too heavy. The pain was too much. She couldn't carry it and herself. _I just needed a little more time. I need more time._ But there was no more time. There were no more chances. He was gone. And she was here.

And they never had a chance.

* * *

Holly Nichole Blaine was born on a Friday.

She was 6lbs. 7oz. She had dark wispy curls. Her eyes were a watery blue. And June loved her more than anything. She just…couldn't look at her. She held her and changed diapers, fed her- everything she was supposed to do. She just didn't look at her. Because every time she did June saw something else that she wanted to tell Nick about.

Like the birthmark on her back that looked almost exactly like his.

Except Nick was gone and June had a baby- she couldn't fall apart anymore. She had to stay strong. So she would take some time, she would give herself a day to get herself under control. Then she would count fingers and toes. Then she would make faces and sing songs. But not on Friday when she should be sending Nick a message about their daughter.

She held her baby girl close, tucked the blanket around her more securely. June's eyes fell closed and she could see him. It was like he was there with her. Standing beside the bed, his hand resting on Holly's little chest. June could see his smile, she could feel the love pouring out of him. She saw him turn to her, felt his lips press to her forehead. It felt so _real_. Too real. She opened her eyes and took in the empty room.

She pulled Holly closer.

"Your Daddy loved you." Her chest ached and her throat felt tight, but she kept going. "He loved you so much. And I know you would have loved him- you're gonna love him. And we're gonna be okay. We will, I promise."

She felt a tear slide down her face.

_We'll be okay, Nick. We love you._

* * *

Things were different after Holly was born. June was different. She loved her daughter so much. And every day she saw something new in her that made getting up the right choice. Holly was smart and easygoing and beautiful. She was the light of June's life. And not one moment went by that her daughter wasn't in her thoughts.

Nick was there too- in her thoughts. When she watched Holly sleeping or when Holly laughed- all she saw was Nick. So she told Holly about him. She told her about his voice and his eyes. She told Holly the stories Nick had told her- about Michigan and his family. Holly didn't understand, but June still did it. Because Nick deserved that much- to not be forgotten.

And between taking care of a newborn and trying to navigate life as a former handmaid, June somehow had stopped listening to news about Gilead. Even though she would always wonder about the other girls she had left behind, she had stopped caring about that place. So it was by chance that Luke had the TV on. That Holly was sleeping instead of awake.

_'…influx of refugees. Among them were several of the women known as Handmaids. Initial reports from incoming refugees have noted the inclusion of two Commanders in the group…'_

She didn't hear anything after that. Because that was all she needed to hear. What if it was Waterford? What if it was someone trying to take her back? What if they wanted Holly? She couldn't let them take Holly. Her mind was spiraling, all the terrible ways Gilead could hurt her- hurt her daughter. They were all swirling in her mind.

Her breathing was shaky- no, it wasn't shaky. She wasn't breathing. Her lungs were burning. Her vision was spotty. Everything was fading in and out. Because…Because they were… and she… she couldn't…She couldn't breathe.

Luke stepped in front of her. He took Holly. It snapped her back. Because someone was taking her baby away. Just like Gilead had tried to do. Her lungs screamed as air rushed back into them. She could hear Holly screaming now. And Luke…He was telling her to breathe, that she had been holding Holly too tight. She didn't care, she wanted her back in her arms.

For three months- since the moment Holly was born- she had been strong. She had fought her fear and her pain and her grief. For three months she had held on to her sanity by a thread. And now Gilead was coming to Canada and she couldn't have her daughter out of her arms.

"June, it's gonna be fine. Let's not worry until we have a reason to, okay?"

_That's what you said before Gilead shot you._

* * *

She took Holly to work with her. Nothing felt safe while Commanders were crossing the border- seeking asylum. _As if they deserved it._ She kept seeing it in her head- going to pick up Holly, finding Waterford there holding her daughter, police holding her back, Holly leaving with that monster. It kept her up at night. It made food taste like ash on her tongue. She couldn't let that happen- ever. So Holly stayed where June could see her- where she could keep her safe.

The refugee center was busier than usual. Whatever had happened in Gilead was big. People were crossing the border in scary numbers. Mostly Marthas, a few kids. No Handmaids since the first group. June tried to stay away from the intake office. She didn't want to see who made it. She didn't want to see who didn't.

But Sarah from Family Services was running late and so June was stuck waiting for her. Holly was perched happily on her hip, hands tugging at June's hair. No one told you how heavy a baby actually was. They look so cute and little, but 'light as a baby' isn't actually that light. Still, she wouldn't trade the aching arm for anything as long as it meant Holly was with her and safe.

The clang of the heavy entrance doors startled June- which Holly found hilarious. Turning, June saw a crowd of people- mostly reporters. _More refugees, then._ She tried to see through the crowd, get a headcount. But the reporters were in the way. She could hear them shouting over each other, but it was hard to make out anything coherent.

She turned back to Holly. Whatever was happening, she'd find out soon enough. Her fingers were busy prying her hair from her daughter's little hands when one voice shouted over the others. "Commander! Commander! Did you engage in the so called 'Ceremonies'?" June froze- hoping, praying that when she turned around it wouldn't be one of her former Commanders. That it wouldn't be Waterford.

She pressed Holly's face to her shoulder- shielding her from whatever evil she was about to face. Then June turned back around. The group had moved further into the building. It made it harder for the reporters to crowd the group- which June now saw was just one Commander and a group of Canadian soldiers. A reporter tripped into a soldier, causing him to stumble to the side, bumping into the Commander. He had been looking down, but the bump from the soldier had the Commander look up and June saw his face.

"Nick!"

His head whipped around at the sound of his name. His eyes found hers. It was really him. He was here- in Canada- _alive._ The reporters turned towards her at the same time the soldiers did. She knew some of them. And they knew her story- a little. But honestly, she barely registered anyone other than Nick. She gripped Holly tighter as she rushed across the room. She needed to be closer- she needed to touch him. Because she had thought he was dead and now he was standing right there in front of her.

The crowd parted for her and then June was in his arms, face buried in the fabric of his coat. She could feel him shaking as his arms wrapped around her. She could feel his lips pressing kisses to her hair as he whispered her name over and over. And, _God_, had she missed the way her name sounded coming from his lips. She held him that much tighter.

Then Holly yanked June's hair- hard.

It brought her back to reality. The reality where they were still in the middle of her workplace. The reality where reporters were probably taking a million pictures right now. The reality where she hadn't introduced Nick to his _daughter_ yet. She pulled back sharply and regretted it almost immediately. Because Nick, _her Nick,_ looked like he expected her to pull away. Like he expected her to hate him or be angry.

Her hand came to rest on his cheek. "I missed you so much." She watched the way his lashes fluttered in surprise. She still thought it was adorable. Still loved that she could get that reaction from him. June brought her hand down and tangled her fingers with his. Then she turned to Holly, who was watching Nick with curious eyes. June smiled. "Holly, this is your Daddy. Remember, I told you about Daddy?"

She could feel Nick's eyes on her, the weight of his gaze almost impossible to ignore. But she kept her eyes on Holly. Finally, he looked at his little girl. And it was like he could breathe again. She saw all the tension in him just fall away as he took in the baby in June's arms. Everything had gone quiet around them and June was glad. She didn't want anything to distract Nick from the moment.

"You named her Holly?" June nodded, a soft smile resting on her lips. He couldn't take his eyes off of his baby girl. "It sounds right, Holly, I like it." June felt something ease inside of her. She hadn't even known she was worried he wouldn't like the name until the worry was gone. But that was so Nick- he always found a way to make her feel better without even trying.

A flash went off, startling June. She glanced around at the crowd of people still surrounding them. Her hands held Holly a little tighter. Nick noticed, because of course he did. He pressed a kiss to her hair then leaned over and whispered something to Holly. Nick stepped back just as two soldiers moved to finish escorting him to wherever they were going.

"Where are you taking him?"

Her voice sounded small, confused. She hated it. She wasn't small, she wasn't weak. But she was scared- scared they would take Nick and she would never see him again. Nick reached out and she grabbed his hand. "June, it's okay. I love you. Both of you. Okay?" She nodded and he did too. Nick's fingers gave hers a brief squeeze before he let go again.

The soldiers walked him down the hall- away from her. The reporters, glancing back at her, followed down the hall, too. But June stayed where she was. She watched him disappear. Then she looked at Holly. "Daddy's gonna be okay, baby. He's gonna come home soon." She kissed Holly's little head, eyes staring at the door Nick had just gone through.

_He's gonna come home._

* * *

A week later June opened the door to the apartment.

Nick stood on the other side.

She didn't let him go for hours.

* * *

It felt like this day would never come.

From their first 'I love you' it had seemed impossible. But now, after nine months of freedom together, it was finally happening. June peeked out the window of the beach house they had rented. She could see Alma with her baby. Sarah, Brianna, and Janine. Some of Nick's friends from Mayday. Even Moira was there. She smiled as she spotted Luke fidgeting with the cuffs of his dress shirt. He had never liked dressing up that much.

Then she saw Nick. He was holding Holly, his face serious as he listened to her baby babble. It always made June's chest hurt a little- seeing them together. Holly adored her dad. And Nick…June knew that his whole world was wrapped up in that little girl. If June's wasn't too, she'd be jealous.

The music started and June watched as Nick went to stand next to the minister, setting Holly down next to him. Luke disappeared from her line of sight, but she knew he was coming to get her. Was it strange to have your ex-husband give you away at your wedding? Maybe. But nothing about life after Gilead was normal. Besides, she didn't need a man to give her away- she didn't need anyone to give her away. But she wanted Luke to be a part of this day- because he would always be a part of her family.

The knock came just as she stepped away from the window. "June, you ready?"

She opened the door.

She had never been more ready in her life.

* * *

It was official. She was Mrs. Nick Blaine. She had married the man who knew her better than anyone. She had married the man she trusted more than anyone. She had agreed to spend the rest of her life with the man she loved most in the world. And she couldn't stop smiling.

Holly was with Luke, splashing in the waves that lapped along the shore. She loved her Uncle Luke. It was kind of annoying sometimes how she completely ignored June if Nick or Luke were in the room. As if _they_ had birthed her or something. But despite the lack of maternal gratitude from her one year old, June loved how much she and Luke adored each other.

June leaned back against Nick, fingers tangling with his in the sand. They had talked about this- in Gilead- taking Holly to the beach. But it had been a dream then. Neither of them had thought that they could ever get out- especially not together. But here they were- married, their daughter splashing in the water. Head falling to rest on Nick's shoulder, June smiled. "I love you so much."

The arm wrapped around her waist tightened. Nick brushed a soft kiss to her temple. "I love you, too. So much, June." She tilted her chin up so she could kiss him. She still got butterflies every time. Because he was there, because he loved her as much as she loved him. Because he was fucking _there_. Her hand came up to cup his cheek as Nick deepened the kiss. This was what she wanted- forever. Her and Nick and Holly- their family, happy and safe.

Sandy hands pulled June's face away from Nick. Turning her head June saw her daughter, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. She babbled about something only she could understand and June felt herself smile as she nodded along. She glanced at Nick and caught the smile he was trying to hide. _No one should be that cute,_ she thought. _No wonder Holly's so- _"…daddy!"

June's mouth gaped open. Her eyes went wide. Nick pulled Holly into June's lap, his lips twitching as he tried to hold in his smile. "Hey, hey Holly, what'd you say, baby?" he said gently. Holly stopped her baby talk and looked at Nick. June knew she looked ridiculous- mouth gaping like a fish- but honestly who gives a fuck? Her baby just said her first word. "Can you say it again for Daddy?"

Holly smiled wide, and bounced a little, then, "Daddy!"

Nick burst out laughing. Holly clapped her little hands, giggling happily. And June…She didn't even try to stop her tears. Because she had almost missed this. She had almost lost this moment. But here she was on her wedding day, with Nick and their daughter. And it was everything she could ever want. Her arms wrapped around her little girl and June felt Nick kiss her hair as he tickled Holly.

_Everything. This is everything._

* * *

**AN:** So, that's it guys! Thanks for reading. There is one more oneshot that I will post soon, so look out for that if you want!


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